


Black Holes & Revelations

by Kima



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Demisexuality, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Smut, Families of Choice, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Galra Keith (Voltron), Getting Together, Injury, Keith does not understand pop culture, Kittens, Love Confessions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Self-Indulgent, Star Wars References, Team as Family, because I literally have no idea where I'm going with this, demisexual keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-02 16:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10222712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kima/pseuds/Kima
Summary: Five times Keith gets distracted by Lance's waist and one time it happens the other way around; needless to say, it's not always entirely convenient.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is inspired by something else entirely that has nothing, whatsoever, to do with space or Klance but I decided I might as well use it for my first Voltron fic. The original idea comes from the fact that I was playing Tales of Zestiria and just. Couldn't. Stop. Staring. At Mikleo's tiny waist - his outfit really doesn't help. And I've been itching to write Voltron fic for a while now, so. Here's to that.
> 
> And let's be fair, all our space children have amazing physiques and if even my ace ass is distracted by a tiny waist, then so will they be, probably.  
> Title is from the Muse song.

 

The first time it happens, Keith is entirely unprepared for it. No, really – nobody would be prepared for that. And least of all him who’s spent half his life avoiding people on purpose and the other half of it simply being avoided by everyone else. There just is no way he could have prepared for it, really.

 

* * *

 

The distress call to the Castle of Lions reaches them late one night, when everyone is asleep and or at least way too bleary to be considered awake. As it is, Keith and Pidge are the only ones to notice it, really – Pidge because she never sleeps when normal people do and instead falls asleep in the weirdest places, like a cat, and Keith because, well… Sleep doesn’t come easy to him, never has. Not stuck in a tiny shed in the middle of the desert and even less so in the castle, floating in the middle of nowhere.

Keith’s on the training deck because it’s the only place where he can shut off his thoughts at least momentarily, no matter how much the rest of the team jokes about him practically living in there. It’s not his fault that training takes his mind off of things, not his fault that the constant repetition of attack, block, evade calms him down enough so he can at least try to get some sleep at night. He’s just dismantling another training robot when his comm device crackles and Pidge’s voice comes on.

“Keith, you awake?”

He pauses the training simulation and nods,

“Yeah, why?” They’re both usually aware of the other not sleeping, mostly because they sometimes meet in the kitchen in the middle of the night, silently raising their mugs of space tea at each other whenever it happens. They don’t usually talk, though – so Pidge calling him over his personal comm (that she reverse-engineered from the tech on their helmets because none of them carry their helmets 24/7 and it’s really handy to be able to communicate without them) is already weird.

“I’ve been hacking into the castle’s communication systems and – I know, I know,” she quickly says, even before Keith can open his mouth. “Shiro’s already told me not to do it anymore, I promise this is the last time but I was just looking for some information in the castle archives, there’s this file that just won’t – uh, anyway,” she rambles on, slightly faster than Keith is actually able to keep up at this time of night. “I think I’ve caught a distress signal? At least I’m pretty sure it’s one, I’m not exactly an expert on alien languages but this one’s repeating the word ‘Voltron’ so I’d say it’s for us, unless of course it’s another trap…” She trails off thoughtfully, probably already halfway to calculating the exact percentage for the possibility of another trap set by the Galra; quiznak, it wouldn’t be the first one.

He blinks and wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of a gloved hand.

“And you’re telling me instead of Allura because…?”

“Because I haven’t slept in 36 hours and I might as well be hallucinating it at this point,” Pidge deadpans and, well, that’s a pretty solid answer. He also suspects it’s partly because nobody in their right mind wants to wake the princess over what might be a false alarm because frankly, Allura is fucking scary, even Shiro’s terrified of her. Keith certainly doesn’t blame Pidge for not wanting to wake her.

So he sighs and grabs his jacket, deactivating both the training simulation and his bayard before leaving the training deck because he’s learned his lesson about robots running amok in the castle and after Hunk nearly walked into Keith’s blade twice, he also doesn’t keep his bayard active until the situation absolutely calls for it – there’s only so many times even he’s willing to almost stab a friend. The trip down to Pidge’s work station in the hangars is entirely uneventful though so he simply walks up to her corner, only lit up by various screens of varying sizes and colors.

“How are you not blind yet,” he wonders out loud, squinting at the too bright screens in the blackness of the rest of the hangar, and Pidge waves a hand at him impatiently, scoffing.

“Not the problem right now.” She pulls up a blinking red message from the corner of one of the smaller screens and he frowns at the lines of code that start running across the screen. “Here – I ran a decoding program and…” Her small hands keep flitting around the screens, hitting holographic buttons here and there and suddenly, the lines of code transform into familiar English letters. Apparently her decoding program also includes a translation, how convenient. He’d probably be more in awe of her and her abilities if he’d understood even half of what she’s doing.

“I’m not just hallucinating, right?” Pidge looks up at him from her chair where she’s perched like a bespectacled tiny gargoyle. That can’t be comfortable. “Because I thought I saw the Mice dance a cancan earlier and that just... maybe I should go to bed.”

“Uh,” Keith says, a bit overwhelmed. “I can’t tell you anything about the mice but I’m pretty sure you’re not hallucinating this.” He gestures towards the screen. “It definitely says Voltron, right there.” Several dozen times, in fact.

“Quiznak.” They look at each other for a moment and then say, at the same time,

“Not it!”

There’s a beat of silence.

“No that’s not how it works,” Pidge argues, adjusting her glasses. “I picked up the signal, you go wake her.”

“I don’t think so,” Keith argues right back, crossing both arms over his chest. “You found it, you wake her!” He might be reckless but he’s no idiot – waking up the princess is basically like poking a sleeping dragon and even he’s read enough Harry Potter to know that you just don’t do things like that.

Pidge glares at him over the lenses of her glasses but he’s faced down Galra three times her size. He’s not going to cave. So he just stares back at her, completely unimpressed. In the end, Pidge huffs out a frustrated sigh.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “I’m gonna wake Coran.” Try as he might, he can’t stop the triumphant grin and gets punched in the gut for it but her punch is half-hearted at best, he knows she’s stronger than that. He still rubs the spot instinctively while she punches a few buttons and a second later, Coran’s shrill voice echoes out of her comm device.

“Blasted Wreacloq rats, stand back! Coran the mighty will vanquish you! Stand back, you fiends, or I’ll…!” Silence, then… “Oh it’s just you, Pidge. What is it?”

Coran heroically takes on the job to wake the princess and from there, it’s just a few minutes until the castle alarms are blaring the rest of the team awake. Keith and Pidge are the first ones on the bridge but are soon joined by the others – granted, in varying stages of being awake but present nonetheless, even if Lance is heavily leaning against Shiro looking like he’s about to fall back asleep right there and Hunk is desperately blinking in the bright light of the command center.

“We’ve received a distress signal,” Allura addresses the paladins, no doubt having been updated by Coran on the way here. “Keith and Pidge picked it up. Pidge, if you would…?”

“Yup!” Pidge pipes up and steps forward, adjusting her glasses. She’s normally not one for public speeches but this she’s getting fairly good at, what with her being a trained communications officer, after all. “The signal is basically just the word Voltron over and over again but it was coded for obvious reasons. I decoded it and I think I can locate where it came from, if I just reverse the coordinates on this thing like… this!” She makes a small, triumphant noise as all around them, the galactic map comes to life and a small portion of the map quickly gets bigger and bigger, zooming in until a single solar system is blinking at them. One of the three planets in the system is marked with a green circle and several lines of coordinates, information about the planet and its population.

Allura nods, a proud smile on her face.

“Wonderful, Pidge! We’re not too far from this planet and should reach it soon – gear up, Paladins!”

“There’s still the possibility of it being a trap,” Keith reminds her and the princess’s blue eyes land on him. For a second, he’s worried she might start acting weird around him again, just when they started to get along again after learning he’s part Galra, but she just nods seriously.

“That is possible, yes,” she agrees. “But we cannot risk abandoning innocents, you know that. We’ll be prepared for any outcome, of course – both Coran and I will stay here at the castle and give you cover should anything happen.”

“The signal’s coming from an outcrop of rocks just south of the equator,” Pidge announces, tapping away at her virtual keyboard. “I’m guessing there’s a city or at least some other kind of settlement there – that’s all I can say right now until we get closer and can get a better look.”

“Okay, you heard it, guys.” Shiro steps forward, ever the picture of a commanding officer. “Let’s gear up and investigate that signal.”

By now, gearing up is such a familiar process that Keith could probably do it with his eyes closed. He’s spent so much time in his Paladin armor that he almost feels at home in it now, like it’s a second skin, so much that he sometimes feel weird to not be wearing it. He’s just putting on his helmet as the familiar rumble of the worm hole rattles through the ship and they speed away, a tiny speck of life travelling faster than light to the other end of the quadrant they’re in.

“Man your lions now!” Allura’s voice announces through Keith’s helmet comm. “We’re getting close, I will update you on the situation once we’ve arrived. You have forty tics!” Keith doesn’t need to be told twice, already stepping into the lift that’ll be taking him to his personal zipline and straight to his lion.

Red is already purring in his mind by the time he arrives in the cockpit and he pats the dashboard with a soft smile.

“Hey girl,” he greets her quietly and gets an answering rumble back, the image of a bright sun in his mind slowly blending into a picture of a soft blanket – her way of saying that she missed him, he knows. “Missed you, too.” She comes to life with the familiar roar of energy thrumming through her agile robotic body and when his hands come to rest on her controls, he can feel the fire burning inside him once more. There’s no need to look at his hands as he presses buttons and activates her, getting ready to launch at Allura’s orders.

If he’s honest, he loves these moments before a mission, before a potential fight – the utter thrill of adrenaline already running through his veins, the burn of anticipation in every cell, that heaviness of silence right before it’s time to go, time to fly, time to form Voltron. He lives for those moments, despite the danger and the high chances of dying out there, because they make him feel alive, more than he’s ever felt.

“Paladins – now!”

He’s long since given up on suppressing the whoop of exhilaration that makes its way out of his chest and he can hear the answering calls from the others. A grin forms on his lips; in the end, they’re all still as excited about flying as they were on day one.

To Keith’s big surprise – sue him, they’ve been tricked by the Galra enough times for him to be paranoid about all kinds of distress signals – it is not actually a trap for Voltron but an actual plea for help from the locals, almost lizard-like aliens with three sets of eyes on their flat scaly heads and way too many feet for Keith’s taste. The Sluaph (as they call themselves) have been chased out of their city by a landing force of Galra just a day ago and are more than happy to see the Paladins. Apparently their scientists have just developed a new sort of engine for intergalactic flight and of course the Galra just had to go and get their greedy paws on it.

Keith isn’t even surprised anymore.

Winning the city back, the leader of the Sluaph tells them, will not be an easy task – there’s a shielding barrier around it, much like the castle’s particle barrier, keeping away intruders and now its own citizens, too. Which means that they can’t just fly in with their lions and save the day because of course it’s never that easy – the plan, instead, is infiltration.

Naturally, Keith gets paired off with Lance because it’s just logical to team up a melee fighter with a shooter – which is why Shiro goes with Hunk and Pidge stays behind, coordinating the infiltration from the Sluaph’s emergency command system. Keith prefers it that way, really. Lance and he are a good team, even if they keep bantering and getting into fights but they work together flawlessly, like a well-oiled machine, whenever they have to.

The Sluaph show them to a network of underground escape tunnels that lead straight back into the city. The fugitives used those very tunnels to escape and it’s Pidge’s idea to use them to get back into the city in secret; the Galra shouldn’t know about them just yet and the Paladins should be able to use that to their advantage.

At least in theory.

Reality, once they’re inside the city, has Keith and Lance crawl through air ducts which are way too narrow for either Hunk or Shiro to squeeze through so the latter two are left searching for another way into the science center where the Galra and the newly developed engine are.

“Why is it always me,” Lance complains from behind Keith as they make their way through the narrow, winding ducts. “Why am I always the one stuck in some dirty ventilation shafts? Can’t we like, ride in on our lions peacefully just _once_? I mean, we have five absolutely awesome magic robot space cats! At least once, we should totally just be greeted by a- a cool space parade just in our honor!”

“And what, be shot at by alien assassins?” Keith replies as they turn another corner, Pidge’s digital map of the shaft system blinking in the upper corner of his helmet display. “With your track record, you’d just bleed out somewhere because you got hit saving some politician.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Lance grumbles, sounding deeply offended. “I’ll have you know, I’m the luckiest guy in the entire-!”

Keith doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence because that’s the moment when the ventilation shaft under him decides to give out and he falls through the floor with a yelp of surprise and the way too loud clatter of falling metal. It’s only thanks to years of training – both at the Garrison and in general – that he doesn’t hurt himself during the rough landing and instead manages to roll into a crouch on the floor beneath the air duct, surrounded by two metal plates that gave out under his weight, their edges marred with rust.

“Keith!” Lance hisses at him from above, his worried face appearing in the hole in the ceiling that hasn’t been there mere seconds ago. “What the quiznak are you doing? Do you _want_ them to notice us?!”

“It’s not my fault!” he shoots back, irritated at being blamed for this. “Just-!”

“Keith, get to cover!” Pidge orders him over the radio. “There’s a Galra patrol!” He curses and ducks behind a corner, hoping that Lance is smart enough to hide his stupid face too. His heart is beating wildly, blood rushing in his ears as he waits with bated breath for the patrol to either pass them or get close enough to take out. His fingers twitch slightly against the hilt of his bayard, the sword materializing soundlessly. He can hear the footsteps, can hear the metallic voices of the sentry robots as they wonder what made the ventilation shaft collapse when and how it did and…

He dives out of his cover, already swinging his blade before the sentries can even react, destroying one and ducking out of reach of the second one. Keith grits his teeth as he slides over the floor, nearly colliding with the fallen metal plating of the ventilation system but catching himself before the sentry has time to turn around. A well-aimed hit of his blade later, the second robot crumbles to the floor in a heap of electric buzzing and crumpled metal.

Keith breathes out in relief and gets back to his feet, willing his bayard to disappear. So much for remaining unnoticed until they reach the command room of the science center.

“Okay, we can’t risk Lance pulling you back in, not with that giant hole in there,” Pidge mumbles over the comms. “Lance, get out of there, you two will have to continue on foot and meet up with Shiro and Hunk somewhere else.”

“Roger,” Lance answers from above Keith and drops down effortlessly, all smooth moves and fluid grace. Keith blinks because that’s something he’s not particularly used to from Lance, of all people, opening his mouth to say something possibly scathing except that no words make it out because Lance puts both hands on his hips and glares at him.

“You just can’t _not_ show off, can you?”

Keith would like to answer, really. He’d love to let loose that scathing remark about being rivals that’s still on his tongue but instead, he’s way too busy staring at Lance’s surprisingly slim waist, accentuated by the way the Paladin armor hugs his body and makes his chest appear much wider than it really is. It also doesn’t help that his hands are still resting on his hips.

“Keith, behind you…!” Pidge’s scream comes a second too late and the next thing he knows is the sharp, hot sting of a goddamn blaster shot blooming across his side and he falls to one knee, grunting with pain as he clutches at his injured side.

“Quiznak…!” Lance yells and grabs Keith’s arm, jostling him and causing a new wave of pain shoot through his body even as he pulls Keith behind him and activates his shield, at the same time lifting his bayard, already transforming into the blue assault rifle and shooting before Keith has even touched the ground behind him. The dying screams of a Galra soldier reach his ear through the pain and the momentary dizziness and when he looks up again, Lance is letting his shield disappear and is kneeling down next to him, face contorted into a grimace of horror and worry.

“Keith, Keith my man, are you okay?” He sounds frantic. Keith grunts in pain and nods.

“Yeah,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “Slap a medpack on it and I’ll be good to go.” Lance seems unconvinced but it’s not like they have a lot of choice – not now that they’ve clearly been detected.

“Okay guys, change of plan,” Pidge sighs heavily over the comms. “Lance, get him that medpack and then get out of there, you’re basically sitting ducks. I’m already calculating the best way to the command center, hurry up over there!”

“Copy that!”

After that, it’s sheer chaos, as usual. The blaster wound hurts and throbs with every step but the heat of the shot has already cauterized it and the healing goo from the medpack is at least numbing the pain enough that he can move, even if he’s a bit slower than usual. The two of them navigate through the hallways with Pidge’s help, meet up with Hunk and Shiro who apparently have also run into problems on their way in but are both safe and sound – and together, they actually do manage to get into the main command center.

From there, taking out the Galra is easy enough. They deactivate the shield around the city, the Sluaph chase away the rest of the Galra troops stationed in the science center and Pidge swoops in as the metaphorical knight in shining armor with the castle ship behind her at the last moment, blasting away the Galra battleship that’s threatening to attack the hideout cave of the Sluaph. After that, there’s just some leftover cleaning to do and the Sluaph are happy to do that on their own; Keith gets rushed back to the castle, Red forming pictures of puppy piles and warm embraces in his mind, purring all around him as she pilots herself to her hangar because he’s barely even conscious throughout the entire flight.

“’m okay, girl,” he reassures her with a weak smile when she mewls silently inside his head. “Don’t worry about me, it’s just a graze.”

She remains unconvinced and worried, purring  in his mind for both their sakes until Allura and Coran are helping him step into a healing pod. Only when the door slides shut and he sinks into the warm cocoon of Altean healing technology does she stop, instead content to send him images of the stars and campfires and laughter until he’s asleep.

His last conscious moment is spent wondering what exactly has been so distracting about Lance’s waist, of all things.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are kittens. There's fluff.  
> I have no idea what I'm doing.

The second time it happens, Keith is no less unprepared for it though mildly less surprised by it; he’s not even suspicious yet as to why exactly it happens a second time, just very confused. Then again, the entire situation is confusing so he doesn’t focus on it too much.

 

* * *

 

 

The shot wound he sustained on planet Slua is gone by the time he emerges from the healing pod, nothing but his pale skin and just a faint trace of pink that disappears in the next few days. They don’t stay with the Sluaph for too long – there are more planets waiting to be liberated, more races to rescue, more places to see.

Keith has never felt like he’s been on the run as much as he does now. They’re always on the move, never a moment of respite. That’s bound to wear down even the most battle-hardened warrior and four teenagers, a college kid and two Alteans of unmentioned age are no exception. He can see it in the shadows beneath Shiro’s tired eyes, can see it in the way Hunk pushes around his food goo instead of devouring it with his usual gusto, can see it in the way Pidge is less and less enthusiastic to tinker with tech, can see it in the way Allura starts staring off into space more often and Coran isn’t even in the mood to tell them ridiculous stories lately.

He sees it in the way Lance sulks because Lance is a professional sulker if he sets his mind to it and not being able to relax for a prolonged time because there’s always just one more battle to fight is definitely a breeding ground for that mindset. Part of Keith wants to say something to make him not sulk anymore but he can’t come up with anything and so, he stays silent and goes training. Because that’s what he does, because actions are louder than words and he has no idea how to act around Lance when he’s like this.

Keith is just coming out of the shower after another training session, tired to the bones and ready to drop down on his bed for a nap and maybe some food goo later, when the castle alarms start blaring again. Keith groans but is already on the move, determinedly moving towards the bridge and reaching it just after Shiro who seems to be living here, nowadays.

“Galra?” Keith asks as he steps closer, dropping onto his chair and pulling up the familiar menus of the his battle station.

“They just moved into this quadrant!” Allura replies, already in full armor though her hair is still loose. He thinks he can see the Mice flitting around on her shoulders, trying to pin it up for her. “Pidge’s Galra Finder picked them up.”

“It’s another prisoner transport,” Coran informs them, hectically pushing buttons on his command station. “Looks like they’re on the way towards the main fleet, we can intercept them in two parsecs!”

“Maybe Matt and Dad are on board!” Pidge has arrived, her tone hopeful and determined. She still seems tired but the mention of a prisoner transport sure has her spirits back up and running; Keith wishes he could be this enthusiastic about freeing prisoners.

“We won’t know until we’ve freed them,” Shiro says. “Where are Lance and Hunk?”

“Here!” Keith throws a glance over his shoulder to see both boys run in, looking like they have cried if Hunk’s red eyes are anything to go by. Huh. He wonders what was going on and then decides that it’s none of his business.

“So what’s the emergency?” Lance asks. “Sharpshooter is here and ready to roll!” Ah yes, he’s being obnoxious again. Keith doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed and goes with the latter because, well, it’s Lance.

While Shiro updates Lance and Hunk on the situation and Pidge is already calculating trajectory paths and ways to make it less than two parsecs (though, to Keith’s knowledge, parsecs are a unit of distance, not time, so he has no idea how exactly she plans on doing that because they’re already travelling via wormholes) Allura is shouting orders to Coran and Keith sighs a little.

He wants to sleep.

The attack on the prisoner transport is fast, effective and, most importantly, successful. While Keith and Lance, being the fastest and best equipped for attacking a lot of enemies at once, hold off the Galra fighters in their lions, Pidge activates her lion’s cloaking device and goes right for the prison ship, flanked by Shiro and Hunk for protection because they’re the biggest. Keith follows the liberation via radio, content to just shoot down Galra until Allura gives the order to retreat and then returns to his hangar, patting Red’s console.

She purrs while landing, sending him images of exploding stars and snowflakes and birds in flight, and then seems to pause, their mental connection filled with silence for a moment. Then, a sudden rumble goes through her entire body and she lets out a roar, seeming downright excited judging from the pictures of snow fights and leaping over lava and popcorn, for some reason.

“What’s wrong, girl?” he asks, immediately concerned because Red doesn’t normally act like that. She’s impulsive and hotheaded but never this… excited. It’s downright weird. Her answer is iced tea, beaches and the moon, telling him not to worry. Then, an image of the bridge, urging him to go there and see for himself, her entire being tinged with giddy happiness.

What the quiznak?

He obliges but only because the entire robotic cat seems to vibrate with excitement and he’s sort of worried she might explode right under his ass. But if she assures him that she’s okay, he’s going to believe her and makes his way to the bridge, stepping inside the big command center and realizing that he’s the last one to arrive because everyone else is already here, mostly out of their armor and… covered in cats.

He blinks and tries to process the scene before his eyes – there’s Pidge, surrounded by what looks like half a dozen kittens with honest to god _wings_ , tiny and leathery and not at all befitting their fluffy-looking fur in the weirdest colors, ranging from normal tabby to bright pink with purple stripes. There’s Hunk, laughing so hard he’s actually crying while another five kittens crawl all over him, excitedly licking his face and everything else of his skin they can reach from where he’s sitting on the floor. There’s Shiro, blinking somewhat overwhelmed but looking so very pleased, holding an especially fat kitten in his arms, black and white and flapping its wings at him. Lance, hugging three kittens and seven others circling around his head, flapping up and down like overly fluffy birds, their happy mews mixing with his laughter. Allura, holding the Mice to her chest and giggling while two kittens try to get to the rodents in her hands. And Coran, desperately trying to chase away another eight kittens who seem to be very determined to pull on his moustache. The rest of the bridge is filled with even more flying kittens, curled up on chairs and consoles and crawling over the floor and flying all around.

“What the,” Keith starts and yelps in the next second when he’s suddenly bombarded by flying mewling kittens, circling around his head and trying to crawl up his legs.

“Kittens!” Hunk calls happily, leaning down to coo at one. “I mean, uh, kitten _aliens_ , really, but like, kittens!”

“I can see that,” Keith returns, gently batting away a particularly naughty, turquoise kitten who tries to stick its snout into his left ear. “But why? I thought you went to free prisoners, Pidge?”

“This is them,” Allura answers in Pidge’s stead because their youngest Paladin is currently buried under a fluffy mountain of mewling cats. “It seems that the Galra have attacked and imprisoned a litter of Mogiyyar.”

“What.” He can’t even formulate it as a question, as confused as he is by all the kittens.

“It’s a race that has an exceptionally high amount of quintessence!” Coran explains, ever helpful. “Their planet always had a surprising amount of it, so much that it even crystallized! Like a Balmera, almost! Or the eyes of a Webbet! Or even…”

“Yeah okay,” Keith interrupts him because he is not in the mood for another confusing lecture by Coran, not after his and Hunk’s adventure with the Weblum. “So these are the imprisoned… Mogiyyar?”

“Their babies, anyway,” Shiro smiles from where he’s still hugging the fat kitten to his chest. “The Galra were apparently planning on harvesting them to see if they could get more quintessence that way.”

“Okay,” Keith says slowly and pushes the kitten intent on licking his ear away, again. “And now?”

“We’re bringing them home, of course,” Allura says over Hunk’s laughter as one of the kittens crawls inside his shirt. “They’re just babies, they can’t even speak yet! And we’re not equipped at all to look after children, especially not this many.”

“Looks like that one’s imprinted on you, Keith,” Lance grins, hair all messed up and eyes glinting, crinkled with joy and laughter. Keith looks over to him, opens his mouth and-

Freezes.

Because Lance’s stupid shirt has ridden up, exposing a sliver of tanned skin and that goddamn waist. Again. The Blue Paladin is lying on his side, surrounded by adorable kittens in a whole paintbox array worth of colors, and one of the kittens – a sunflower yellow one with white spots – is draped over his hip, making his waist appear even smaller and purring up a storm because Lance is petting it gently with one hand, the other one supporting his own head and Keith just _cannot stop staring_.

And that is, of course, the moment his pesky turquoise annoyance manages to stick its snout into Keith’s ear and lick it.

He jerks away from the kitten, trips over one that was crawling behind him (causing it to yowl and speed away) and falls flat on his ass while the rest of the Paladins break out in laughter. Lance, in particular, laughs the loudest, flopped back on his back with all the kittens that were flying around him before now happy to perch on his belly so he’s basically buried under a mountain of fluff that just mewls happily at the jostling of his body as he tries to catch a breath. Keith is entirely unimpressed, mostly because the turquoise kitten makes an annoyingly cute noise and perches on his shoulder, standing up on its hindlegs and raising its front paws triumphantly while its tiny bat wings flap, repeatedly hitting Keith in the back of his head.

“Okay yeah no,” he grumbles and catches the offending baby alien. It makes a surprised noise at him and looks up at him, all huge yellow glowing eyes and tiny pink nose, the equally pink tongue caught between its tiny teeth so only a sliver of it is visible.

It looks adorable.

“Miu?” it asks and Keith scowls at it.

“Stop,” he grumbles. All this adorableness is making him uncomfortable and it doesn’t help that he’s the butt of the joke everyone is laughing about. The kitten remains completely unimpressed, however, and simply licks his nose which results in new peals of laughter from the others. In his mind, Red remains a smug and happy presence, sending him images of pink roses, snowy mountain tops and, ironically enough, tail-wagging puppies.

Shiro comes over, holding his own fat kitten in one arm and chuckling slightly, to crouch next to him and grin at him.

“It’s a nice change from the usual,” he says and, well, who is Keith to argue? Especially when his best friend is holding a fluffy, fat kitten that’s happily nuzzling against Shiro’s chest. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, no Galra attacks, no rampaging food goo machine and instead fat fluffy kittens! Who wouldn’t love this?”

“Excuse you,” Hunk pipes up from the floor, glaring at Pidge. “They’re not fat, okay? They’re pleasantly plump! Pleasantly plump and absolutely adoruuuuble, aren’t you?” He coos at one of the kittens in his lap and scratches behind its ears. Shiro laughs and pets his own fat – no, _pleasantly plump_ – kitten, eyes crinkling at the corners and making him actually look his age, for once. Seeing perpetually exhausted and haunted looking Shiro happy, surrounded by the rest of the team and adorable baby aliens, Keith just… gives in.

He leans back a bit, cradles the turquoise beast in his arms more comfortably and relaxes. In no time at all, he’s surrounded by more cats and Shiro is sitting next to him and the entire bridge is filled with cooing and tiny mewls and Coran’s occasional yelling when another kitten tries to mess with his dashboard.

All in all, it’s probably the most pleasant rescue mission they ever had; the ride back to the Mogiyyar’s planet is quiet and spent cuddling the baby aliens in a huge kitten pile on the bridge and even the Mice calm down enough to start playing catch with them once the Mogiyyar babies stop trying to eat them. Coran and Allura land the ship next to a relatively large settlement on the south side of the planet and when they step onto the planet’s surface – lush forests, wide grasslands and, for some reason, bright pink lakes – they’re greeted by a mass of overexcited flying cats in just as many different colors though they’re much paler once grown up, apparently. They’re dressed in simple vests in subdued colors, nicely accentuating their fur patterns.

“The Gods have descended!” one of the cats cries when the Paladins, flanked by Allura and Coran step out of the castle and onto the ramp that leads to the surface. “And they have brought back our young!” Keith frowns and hopes that this won’t be the Arusians all over again because frankly, he’s not in the mood to witness another weird Dance of Apology. He’s carrying the turquoise kitten who seems to have taken a particular liking to him and it’s starting to wiggle excitedly in his arms the closer he gets to the adult Mogiyyar. It’s also making grabby… paws… for a pale green cat in the front row.

“Greetings, Mogiyyar!” Allura says, smiling widely and surrounded by a flock of curious kittens. “My name is Princess Allura and these are the Paladins of Voltron! We have intercepted a Galra ship that was carrying this litter of yours and are bringing the younglings back to you. We hope to work together with all of you and that you will join us in our fight against the Galra Empire!” For a second, there’s just stunned silence.

Then, a storm of excited meows rises up and the Paladins and their Princess are swarmed by even more cats who are excitedly flapping around them. These ones can talk at least, though, so Keith finds himself surrounded by the pale green cat from earlier who keeps thanking him over and over for bringing back her baby. The baby in question is in fact the tiny turquoise tornado of a kitten in his arms and it’s mewling excited at its… mother, he guesses, so he releases it quickly before it can scratch him up with tiny, sharp claws and it practically flings itself at the adult cat.

“We will bring you to our leaders!” another cat is telling Allura and the only reason Keith can hear it over the mewling and babbling of the Mogiyyar (and Lance’s laughter) is because he’s standing right next to her. As it turns out, the Mogiyyar that greeted them were just farmers (and the castle apparently landed smack in the middle of a huge field of… something the cat aliens grow underground) and the fastest one gets sent back to the settlement to tell the actual government.

An hour later, they’re told to fly the castle further north; the territory they landed in is mostly populated by farmers and hunters and the actual politicians live in another, bigger settlement. It reminds Keith a lot of Earth, actually, and he’s surprised enough to let the turquoise kitten lick his face in gratitude for bringing it home. The rescued kittens (and some of their parents because it looks like the Galra actually managed to capture kittens of different social classes) happily accompany them back to the castle, while Coran lets some of the adult Mogiyyar contact the capital from his command station so they’re prepared for them.

Because the ship is too big to actually land inside the city, Coran agrees to stay on board while the rest of the group divides into groups to fit into some of the transportation pods along with all the cats they have on board by now. When they finally land in front of the senate hall (because that’s apparently a thing that’s happening for these aliens, democracy in a senate hall), the plaza in front of it is filled to the brim with cats, some of them standing on their hindlegs but most of them fluttering in the air. There’s a group of especially formal looking Mogiyyar, clad in white vestments and little pointy hats, that are easily recognizable as political leaders, of a sort.

“Revered Paladins!” one of them says, its snout curved into an admittedly cute facsimile of a smile, showing sharp little teeth. “We thank you for returning our young ones to us! You are forever welcome to the Mogiyyar and we would be honored to join the Voltron alliance.”

“So you’ve heard of us?” Allura asks, looking surprised. Another one of the politicians nods and explains,

“Our legends tell of the Great Lions and their mighty roars, forming the very ground and skies. We have heard stories of other travelers and the Galra speak of you in fear and hatred. Any enemy of the Galra is our friend.”

“Then it would be my honor to welcome the Mogiyyar into our alliance,” Allura smiles and bows, causing the cat aliens to break out in enthusiastic cheers. “I am Princess Allura and these are the Paladins of Voltron.” After introductions are made and Keith is exceedingly getting uncomfortable with all the attention, small, grayish cat flutters over to Allura. It’s wearing a black vest which is weird because none of the others are wearing even a trace of that color on their clothing.

“Dear Princess,” the gray cat says, its voice scratchy and sounding like an elderly lady. “We grew up with the Great Lions in our legends. Might we see them? You see, we believe that the Gods have created us in their likeness. To see these magnificent creatures…!”

“Oh, oh!” Lance yells from somewhere behind Keith and promptly elbows him away to be able to speak to the cat. Keith growls at him but doesn’t dare to hit him back, not wanting to possibly cause an outrage. He is, however, plotting his revenge already as he rubs the spot Lance’s sharp elbow has dug into. “Can we like, have a parade? We could parade around the city and even fly! You know? Show all of you how they function and fly? And they have amazing powers too!” The grey cat’s – who is obviously some sort of religious figure – bright yellow eyes grow even bigger and Keith swears it looks like it might start to hyperventilate any second. He briefly wonders if his knowledge of CPR is gonna work on a cat alien and decides that he does not want to try it out; he is not kissing a cat, period.

“W-Would that be possible?” it asks, voice cracking with both emotion and excitement. “Princess…?” Allura, glaring at Lance for butting in and looking very much like parading around the lions is the very last thing she would be in favor of (and Keith can’t blame her, honestly), softens up instantly and smiles.

“Why, of course,” she says. “I don’t see why not.”

This is how Keith finds himself inside Red’s cockpit two days later, flying loops high up in the sky and shooting a blast of fire into the pinkish clouds while the other Paladins perform similar tricks along with him. It’s not exactly coordinated nor is it particularly pretty but it seems to do the job because a small screen right above his dashboard is showing cheering and apparently praying Mogiyyar, one of them even fainting from where Allura is recording the reactions for the Paladins.

“See that, Keith!” Lance crows into the radio and his triumphant, smug face appears a second later, just above the cheering cat aliens. “No alien assassins, nobody’s being shot at. It’s a parade!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keith returns, pursing his lips slightly in distaste even though it’s mostly just for show and Lance’s sake, really. After all, Keith wasn’t the one to come up with this silly rivalry thing (though he does secretly enjoy it). “You win that one.” It doesn’t hurt him to admit that because Lance laughs happily in reply and it’s a much better look on him than the gloomy sulk he showed just before they rescued the kittens.

If he’s honest with himself… he could get used to it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith does not understand pop culture, everyone is cold and the Galra suck. Some angst but no worries, happy ends all around and everybody makes it out safe and sound :)  
> Also, bonus points for spotting the Teen Wolf reference (not that it's hard to miss xD)

The third time it happens, Keith isn’t even surprised anymore. Confused, yes, but not surprised because he simply doesn’t have it in him anymore to be surprised, not after all that. Besides, once is an accident, twice is coincidence and three times… three time’s a pattern.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith hates the cold. Has always hated it, even when he was stuck in a desert for a year and huddled up at night under as many blankets as he could find because the desert gets freezing at night. And yet, all those freezing nights out in the desert looking for the Blue Lion, for Shiro, for… something, are nothing compared to the bone chilling icy wastes of the outer moon of planet Quesleon. Even with his armor on and the heat regulator turned up to maximum, his breath is threatening to cloud up his helmet visor and he can feel the goosebumps build up mercilessly.

There’s a storm raging all around him and Red sends him comforting pictures of campfires on the beach from where he’s hidden her behind a mound of snow while he sniffs and trudges through the snow, mindful of the slippery ground. There’s a slope right up ahead and he groans quietly, deciding not to brave it – he needs to save his energy because who knows what else awaits him in this freezing hell.

This time it was Hunk who decoded some transmissions between two Galra fleets, almost a galaxy apart. Keith doesn’t even try to understand what exactly he or Pidge are doing while they technobabble all over each other. It ended with the discovery of another secret Galra base, this one dedicated to research and possibly new gut churning experiments, courtesy of their druids. The plan is to approach the base from different angles so they won’t get caught, leaving their lions behind while they all make their way towards the coordinates Hunk has extrapolated from the transmissions. Keith hates every bit of the plan even if he has to agree that it’s the smartest approach.

“I hate this,” he grumbles for good measure, glaring at another snow hill.

“Yeah no kidding,” Hunk agrees. “Why can’t the Galra ever be somewhere _nice_?”

“Because they’re secret Star Wars nerds and channeling Hoth,” Lance whines into the radio. “Now I know why Han cut open that Tauntaun…”

“What?” Keith is way too cold to try and understand Lance’s ramblings. Especially when they’re full of pop culture references, goddamn.

“Keith, my man,” Lance doesn’t even pretend not to be shocked. “We’re so totally watching Star Wars with you once we’re back on Earth. I can’t let you die without having ever watched these masterworks.”

“Okay, enough with the chatter,” Shiro interrupts, sounding tired but mildly amused. “We’re getting close and should cut the radio transmissions to an absolute minimum before they pick up on it.” Keith grumbles but agrees; no matter how nice it is to be reminded that he is not, in fact, all alone out here in the freezing wastes, they can’t afford to get caught when they’re this close. Allura’s hoping to find information on how the Galra keep throwing more and more monstrosities at them and what better place to do just that than a secret research base? So Keith shivers and curses under his breath and continues on through the snow, grateful for the 3D map Pidge has created for all of them because it’s literally the only thing that helps him navigate through this white nightmare. At least, he’s now pretty close to his designated spot.

He is just moving around another horrifyingly tall snow mountain when the ground suddenly shakes and he stumbles, falling to his knees as he desperately tries to not fall over completely.

“What the quiznak?!” Lance yells through the comms because that boy simply cannot stay quiet. The rumbling of the ground and possibly the entire goddamn moon nearly drowns out the yells of the other Paladins but Keith is too busy trying not to get buried under a mountain of snow and ice to pay attention to the others right now. He grunts with the effort of diving away from the avalanche of snow that’s rolling down the hill right next to him and nearly slips on the ground, catching himself just in time to notice the huge crack that’s suddenly yawning right in front of him – the shifting snow must have revealed the yawning abyss of a crevice in the ice and pure luck is all that has stopped Keith from falling straight into it.

“Paladins!” Allura yells, sounding worried. “Are you alright?”

“Barely,” Pidge grunts back. “What was that?!”

“The moon’s unstable!” Coran informs them. “Whatever the Galra are doing, they have destabilized the entire structure of it!”

“Then we gotta hurry,” Shiro decides. “Guys, are all of you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Keith replies, followed by Lance and Pidge.

It’s silent on Hunk’s end.

“Hunk?”

More silence.

“Damn it, Hunk’s out! We have to get him!”

“But what about the Galra base?!”

“I’ll go get Hunk, I’m closest to him!” Keith volunteers, gripping his bayard. “You guys go on ahead to the base and kick some Galra butts for me!”

“Be careful,” Shiro warns and Lance yells,

“I’m counting on you to get Hunk to safety, Keith! Don’t let me down, okay?!” Keith nods before remembering that the others can’t see him.

“I promise,” he swears quietly and then starts sprinting towards where he thinks Hunk should be. The ground has at least stopped shaking enough for the snow to settle more or less, even if the storm is still raging on all around him.

“Keith, I am sending you the last coordinates of Hunk’s known position,” Allura says in his ear. “You have to hurry – your armors are not made to withstand temperatures like this for a prolonged time! If he got buried by snow…”

“Got it,” he grits out, speeding up even more. If he thought it was hard to move before, it’s now pure hell. His feet sink into the snow up to his thighs in places and he desperately wishes for Red’s fiery lasers to melt up at least some of this mess so he can get to his teammate faster. It doesn’t help that the ground is still trembling slightly so the snow keeps shifting under him.

He can’t hear the others anymore, doesn’t know if they switched to another channel or if his radio gave out under the onslaught of the snowstorm. At least his map is still working, blinking on his helmet visor with his position marked as a red spot and thankfully inching closer to the yellow spot that should be Hunk. _Should_ being the vital word here because of course their stupid helmets only transmit a signal as long as the Paladin is actually conscious. Keith has no idea whose grandiose idea it was to make the signal short out once a Paladin loses consciousness because that’s literally the dumbest thing ever – especially in a situation like this. He very determinedly does not think of what might happen if he can’t find Hunk or finds him too late and stubbornly continues onward.

Just when he should be only a short distance from Hunk’s position, the ground shakes again. Keith slips, falls, tumbles and gets his breath knocked out by a sliding chunk of ice that’s literally coming out of nowhere.

“I _hate_ this moon,” he groans as he pulls himself up with shaking arms. He’d take fighting a fleet of Galra over this any time – at least when he’s fighting, he knows what he’s doing. There’s a rhythm, a choreography to the movements, the way he can dance around an opponent and still come out on top, calculating his way through even the toughest situations. But this? Keith is powerless against nature, cannot swing his blade at it and cut his way through.

He’s exhausted by the time he gets to the yellow blinking spot that marks Hunk’s last known location, limbs shaking with the effort of staying upright in the snow and on the shaking ground. There are faint explosions somewhere in the distance that aren’t exactly helping with the unstable moon and Keith huffs out a breath, a small cloud of mist against his chattering teeth.

He’s really, really cold.

But he also promised to save Hunk and Keith would rather die than break a promise. Must be his Galra genes – honor or death. Or something. He’s pretty sure his brain is starting to freeze up by now, thinking is getting harder by the minute.

“C’mon, Hunk,” he pleads as he looks around, nothing but snow and ice and more snow. “Where are you?”

It’s once again pure luck that helps Keith – in all the white, it’s especially easy to overlook the yellow of Hunk’s armor but thankfully, the glowing lights on the armor are bright blue and somehow manage to be seen through the snow that Hunk is buried under. Keith breathes out in relief and hurries to where the faint glow is dying the snow blue, falling to his knees so he can start digging. His arms are burning and his fingers are numb from the cold that’s seeping through his gloves but he somehow manages to uncover at least Hunk’s head, bending over his prone form to make out the damage.

“Dammit…” A fine sheen of ice is already building on the screen of Hunk’s visor, the inside of it clouded up by shallow breaths. But even in the weird grey twilight of the snow storm, Keith can clearly see the bright red blood that’s covering part of Hunk’s face, seeping out from a nasty looking head wound that’s half covered by his headband.

“Allura? Coran?” He yells into his comms but there’s only static answering him. Great. So his radio did cut out in the storm and now he’s stranded here, with an injured teammate and no way to contact the castle until… until what, exactly? Until they both freeze to death? Until Hunk bleeds out?

No. No, Keith refuses to let that happen. They didn’t come this far to be defeated by nature of all things, not after everything that happened. So he grits his teeth and keeps digging until he has freed enough of Hunk to pull him out of the snow mound.

“C’mon, buddy,” he mumbles. “C’mon, wake up. Work with me.” Hunk remains motionless and still and Keith curses. There’s only so much he can do with his radio connection cut off and Hunk unconscious.

But he’s not alone, is he?

No, he’s never alone, not anymore. Not since he walked into that Galra ship and looked into Red’s eyes when she finally opened her mouth and caught him, when she _chose_ him.

It’s not even a conscious thought, calling her. More like instinct, a feeling of a child reaching towards his mother, a sense of danger and need and the raging flames in both their souls, connecting them and uniting them and he can practically feel her shuddering awake, her mind coming active and reaching back out to him, feeling for him in the midst of white and wind. He briefly wonders why Yellow hasn’t arrived to Hunk’s help but it’s of course possible that she simply can’t sense him, much like the helmets can’t pick up their signals if they lose consciousness. There’s a pang of pity for Yellow but then, thankfully, the raging storm suddenly gets blocked out by the beautifully familiar sight of Red’s fiery red body, all gleaming metal and sharp claws, roaring in both his mind and out loud.

“Good girl!” he praises her and flashes her a tired smile. Red’s answer is a mix of worry (rain and the full moon) and pure affection (blazing fires and Shiro’s laughter and the feeling of a wet kitten snout against his ear). She leans down and scoops Hunk up easily in her jaws, one foot still dangling between her teeth but out of the snow and more or less safe. Keith releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding and holds up a thumb at her – and of course that’s when everything goes wrong.

The explosions in the distance suddenly start up again and with them, the ground starts shaking again. A crack fills his ears and through the raging snow storm, he can feel Red screaming in worry inside his mind as the ground under him splits open and shifts and disappears. A helpless scream makes its way out of his chest as his feet fall through a newly formed crevice and he only barely manages to hold onto an icy outcrop, teeth gritted and arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up.

He glances up at Red, Hunk still held safely in her jaws, and yells at her,

“Go get him to safety! You hear me? Get Hunk back to the- the castle, okay? I’ll be fine!” She’s frantic in his mind but he shakes his head at her, stubborn. “No! I’ll be okay! But you have to save Hunk, please! I promised!” Red whines, the sound of it breaking his heart, but – moves away, out of his sight, her worry thick in his mind and soul but determined to save Hunk like he asked her to do. She lifts off in a flurry of snow and ice and disappears out of his sight. He grunts, eyes watering while his arms shake and everything hurts, but he knows he’ll be okay, he just has to…

The jetpack! He mumbles a spontaneous thanks to whoever thought to include these things in their armors and activates it. The sudden thrust upwards makes him lose his grip on the rock but that’s okay, no problem, the trajectory is enough to throw him up far enough so he can scramble up on the ledge, dropping into the snow with an exhausted sigh.

He hates this moon so, so much.

For a few long, shivery moments he just lies there, his feet still half hanging into the abyss, trying to catch his breath and regain his energy. He wants to lie down and sleep for a hundred years and never, ever see snow again. He wants to sleep and stop freezing and suddenly, fiercely, wishes someone was here with him, if only to talk to him, to keep him awake. They were taught all kinds of things in the Garrison, including simulations of missions in different circumstances; he remembers Iverson yelling at some unfortunate cadets to never, ever stop moving during a snow storm because that means certain death.

He knows he needs to move, knows he has to get out of here, to at least maybe make it to Yellow because she surely has to be somewhere around here, right? He knows all of it but he’s just so tired and his arms are hurting and just a little nap can’t be too bad…

No. He shakes himself awake almost violently and pushes himself up on his arms, trying to crawl further away from the crevice before the entire goddamn moon decides to fall apart under him. He gets up on trembling legs and blinks hard, trying desperately to not fall down immediately again because the ground is still shaking like crazy. What even are the others doing? What were the _Galra_ doing when they decided to dig into this moon? He stumbles from another shaking of the ground and curses when his legs do give out under him.

The moon continues to shake and once again, faint explosions sound in the distance except that this time, they’re much closer than before. Or not? Keith isn’t certain anymore, his entire body feels numb; he’s not sure if he prefers that to the pain of burning muscles. Hopefully Red made it to the castle with Hunk by now – at least one of them will be taken care of, then. And it means that he didn’t break his promise to Lance…

Pure force of will and stubbornness is what makes him stand up again. Another avalanche of snow comes down somewhere behind him and he curses, curses everything and most of all this godforsaken moon, wishing he were anywhere else. He wishes Lance were here – Lance always manages to find a silver lining to every situation. That and his constant rambling would be a nice distraction from the snow and the cold and the pain in his arms and legs. He’s so, so very cold…

The sharp hiss of a laser shot flies right past his head and that’s probably the only reason he even hears it through the snow and the rumbling ground. Keith whirls around with a curse, instinct taking over despite the sharp pain in his muscles as the blade on his bayard is already forming, a flash of red in the white nightmare all around. What the hell? He’s frantically searching the landscape for any sign of an attacker and swears when a group of camouflaged Galra sentries show up out of nowhere. And of course he hasn’t seen them because the damn Galra were smart enough to swap out their trademark purple for white.

More laser shots, still terrifyingly purple, shoot out, hitting the snow all around him and he conjures up the shield on his armor, diving to the side and behind a huge ice boulder, covered in snow. He refuses to get shot on this white hellhole!

“Guys!” he yells into the comms. “Some help would be really appreciated now!” Of course, nobody answers but static, too loud in his ears; his radio is still out for the count and he’s alone, surrounded by the enemy. The storm is masking the noises of the approaching sentries so he’s forced to peek out of his cover, breathing heavily with the adrenaline coursing through his veins and exertion. One sentry is already worryingly close so he grits his teeth and leaps out from behind the ice, spinning as he evades another shot and cuts down the first sentry, dropping to a crouch and rolling to avoid another shot. The snow all around him explodes with the laser shots hitting it, spraying him with even more snow and he curses again, trying to get to new cover – another snow mound and he’s out in the open from behind and he hates it all, hates it and if this is how he’s going to die, then all of this has been for naught. Their fight against the Galra, Voltron, it’s all pointless if he dies here and quiznak, he wants to live.

He wants to live and…!

“ _Keith!!_ ”

Keith is so relieved to hear somebody that isn’t himself that he nearly misses another sentry coming at him from around the snow, aiming its rifle straight at Keith’s head. He swipes at the sentry with his sword but it dodges, blocks his blade with the gun and kicks him straight into the chest so he goes down with a grunt, hitting his head hard on a rock that’s almost hidden by the snow. His vision swimming, Keith lets go of his bayard and blinks against the dizziness, against the pain blooming through his skull and scrambles backwards, slipping on the snow in his haste to somehow get out of reach, away from the rifle still aimed at his head. He can feel panic rise, choking him, as he stares into the barrel, already lighting up with the purple heat of a laser. There’s bile rising in his throat and he feels sick and scared and –

The sentry’s head loudly and suddenly explodes, its body remaining standing for just a tic more before it drops down into the snow right in front of him. Keith stares, dumbfounded and too dizzy to understand immediately, while more purple shots hit the snow around him – and then suddenly stop, intercepted by a few well-aimed shots from an entire different direction.

Keith’s radio crackles to life with Lance’s smug voice,

“Yo Keith, need any help down there?”

Keith has never been so grateful for the fact that Lance is an amazing sharpshooter. He huffs out a weak laugh and sinks back into the snow.

“You’re late,” he mumbles, tongue barely moving. “Show-off.” More shots, more noise… and then silence, just the howling of the wind all around him, blowing snow against his helmet visor. He’s not sure how long he’s just lying there, catching his breath, feeling all his strength and energy seeping out of him in a sudden rush.

“Oh no, no, no!”

He groans, weak and annoyed, when a figure appears right next to him, pulling him into a sitting position. Lance’s blue armor patterns come into view as the Blue Paladin himself shakes Keith until he opens his eyes. When did he close them…?

“No sleeping, Keith!” Lance yells at him and Keith huffs in reply,

“No need to yell… can hear you loud and clear… radio, r’member?”

“Don’t sass me,” Lance yells again, shaking him some more. “And don’t fall asleep on me! Quiznak, Keith, hypothermia is not a joke!”

“Ooooh…” Keith drawls, breathing hard and tired and his voice scratchy. “Fancy words…”

“Shut your mouth hole!” Lance snaps, his voice shrill with fear and worry. “I’m trying to save you here!” He leans Keith against a nearby boulder and Keith blinks at him dumbly, following the patterns of blue on the white armor and squinting against the glowing accents. Why are they so bright?

“I hate snow,” he mumbles and Lance barks out a nearly hysteric laugh. Keith grins weakly and then frowns a bit when his view starts swimming again. What’s with that?

“Keith, stay with me! I’m calling Blue right now, she’ll get us out of here!”

“… want Red…”

“I know, I know but Red’s not here right now,” Lance replies, shaking him again and Keith really, really wishes he would stop that. He bats at Lance weakly and gets his wrists caught in Lance’s hands for his efforts. “No, c’mon, stop fighting me. It’ll be okay. We’ll get out of here, Blue will be here in just a few tics to get us.”

“’m cold,” he complains and Lance nods.

“Dude, me too, believe me. But you gotta stay with me, no spacing out, okay? Don’t fall asleep in the middle of a snowstorm, rule number one. Don’t be stupid, don’t break the rules!”

“You’re stupid,” Keith grumbles back and closes his eyes so of course he gets shaken by Lance once again. “And your waist is stupid….”

“My… my what?”

“Stupid… waist…” Keith mumbles, voice going quieter and quieter. His eyes drop down to the weirdly accentuated lines of Lance’s waist. Stupid armor. Stupid Lance. Stupid, stupid ice moon. “Dis… tracting…” He knows he needs to stay awake, can hear Lance telling him to do just that over and over and he really _should_ concentrate on staying awake but it’s cold and he’s hurting all over and exhausted and… oh, waistlines…

He blacks out.

…

…

When he comes to again, he finds himself back in one of the healing pods. He should probably be more annoyed than he feels upon realizing that he’s been stuck in a pod again but mostly, he’s simply relieved that he’s not surrounded by snow anymore. He blinks himself more awake and focuses on what he can see on the other side of the pod screen – the rest of the Paladins, in varying stages of being awake. Pidge is slumped against Shiro, fast asleep, and the oldest Paladin is staring off into space, close to falling asleep himself. Allura is sitting on the floor next to them, hugging her knees to her chest and talking quietly to Coran. Hunk’s nowhere to be seen but he’s probably stuck in a healing pod himself – but there’s Lance, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against one of the empty pods, wide awake and staring straight back at him, his face going through a surprising amount of emotions that Keith can’t name before settling on a small, relieved smile in the end.

And oh yeah, then he’s moving towards the pod and he’s still in his bodysuit, black against the backdrop of the white room, all lean muscle and smooth curves. Keith helplessly watches on, realizing that the damn tight bodysuit is even worse than the armor.

This weird waist fixation is now officially a pattern and Keith is so, so screwed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith reaches new heights of being an emo edgelord and feelings suck; what else is new? :D

The fourth time it happens, Keith is almost prepared for it. Almost but not entirely because he still just doesn’t _understand_ but then again, this is what friends are for, no? He doesn’t understand but _they_ do and, well. Keith trusts them. Even if it means dropping some of his so very carefully drawn up walls and exposing his vulnerable heart to them.

 

* * *

 

“Um… Not that I mind but is there a reason you’re in here?”

Keith looks up slowly from his hands and winces. Of course one of the others would find him eventually, he’s known that since the very moment he practically fled out of the med bay mumbling something about having to see Red. He just didn’t expect them to find him so quickly.

“No?” he tries and doesn’t even sound believable to his own ears. Neither does he to Hunk, it seems, because the Yellow Paladin just lifts an eyebrow at him and continues stirring whatever mixture he’s preparing for the weekly _Good thing we’re still alive_ -Feast. They’re in the kitchen area because Hunk stress-cooks (and a near death experience on the Snow Moon of Doom certainly counts as stress) and Keith is currently sitting behind the counter on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, playing with the Marmora knife absentmindedly and definitely _not hiding_ , thank you very much. He’s not hiding, he’s just… avoiding.

“Look, if you need to make sure I’m okay after what happened, you really don’t have to?” Hunk continues, stirring some more. “Yellow told me that you and Red got me out and I’m really grateful and everything but, uh… I’m really fine? You don’t have to sit here and guard me, I’m not going to faint or anything, the healing pod did great work on that head wound. Unless of course you’re just keeping me company, then by all means, you’re welcome. I’m still confused but you’re absolutely welcome, buddy.” Keith hums in response, not entirely sure how to answer. Part of him is indeed glad that Hunk is moving around again and not deathly still anymore, covered in snow and blood, but that’s not the main reason he’s down in the kitchen and behind the counter so only the person who actually is cooking next to him can see him.

The main reason he’s here is that he blurted to Lance’s face that he finds his waist distracting and he very decidedly does not want to talk about that. Least of all with Lance who seemed very determined to try and make him talk right after Keith slid out of the healing pod and almost tripped straight into Lance’s arms. It was awkward and weird and Keith’s stupid heart spontaneously decided to become a marathon runner or a trapped bird or something else entirely stupid and hectic and he can feel himself blush just thinking back to it. There have been hugs from Shiro once the others got up from their scattered positions around the room, an elbow in the ribs from Pidge and sincere expressions of relief from Allura and Coran. And Lance, still way too close and in his stupid black bodysuit, opened his mouth and Keith fled.

It’s been two days and Keith has discovered that it definitely has advantages to live in a huge flying space castle with more rooms than he can count. Namely the fact that there are a lot of hiding places when you very much do not want to talk about things you said while high on hypothermia and possible frostbites with a teammate who you said those things to.

His avoiding plan so far has worked perfectly until, of course, Hunk got out of his healing pod and marched straight into the kitchen.

“Lance was very worried about you,” he says because the silence suddenly feels very heavy and he has the feeling that he needs to fill it somehow. He glances at Hunk out of the corner of his eye and see the other boy smile a little.

“Yeah, he does that,” Hunk agrees. “Everybody always thinks that I’m the one who worries most about all of you guys but it’s actually Lance. That guy has a really big heart – he should be at least twice my size or something so it fits inside, and not this long gangly noodle.”

“I didn’t know,” Keith confesses and Hunk nods, humming a bit as he adds some more… something to whatever he’s cooking.

“Yeah, Lance isn’t very big on having everyone know that. Must be a big brother thing, I guess? The worrying, I mean. I do it too.”

“You’re a big brother?” Curiosity piqued, Keith actually does look up at Hunk to see him look equally sad and proud.

“Yup. Two little brothers, twins. They just turned five,” he says with a wistful smile. “So I totally get how Lance gets homesick a lot, you know? Except that his family is really huge. Mine’s pretty small but I still miss them and, yeah… But cooking helps me remember them. So it’s partly why I spend so much time in here. Like, don’t get me wrong, I really, really, _really_ love food. But it also reminds me of my family.” Keith hums a bit, not knowing what to reply to that.

He doesn’t have a family.

He only has Shiro who’s like a brother to him and has looked out for him since… forever, basically.

His grip on the knife tightens enough so that his knuckles turn white inside the gloves and he swallows, quickly thinking of something else before Hunk starts feeling guilty about having a family. The big guy would totally do that, Keith knows; both Hunk and Lance have very weird senses of empathy, something that Keith himself lacks entirely.

“And now you guys are like a second family,” Hunk suddenly continues his musings, grabbing for a carton of something that looks faintly like rice but could be literally everything else, knowing Altean cuisine and Coran’s terrifyingly disgusting Paladin Lunch. “So it’s basically like extended family! I mean, we have Shiro who’s kinda like the dad – except that he’s not really that much older than us which makes it a bit weird, I guess – and Allura who’s kinda both the mom and the scary big sister and Coran, whatever he is. Weird uncle, maybe? Or vodka aunt?” Keith laughs quietly, imagining Coran reclining dramatically on a sofa with a vodka shot in hand and hugging a pillow to his chest. Hunk grins, obviously satisfied with getting a laugh out of Keith.

“Is Pidge the baby sister, then?” Keith wonders and Hunk nods.

“Yeah, totally. The little genius who like, skips three grades and suddenly is in a class with you and still has a better GPA.” Keith chuckles. He wouldn’t know such a scenario but he definitely likes it. “And you, me and Lance are the brothers. One for all and all for one, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith agrees with a small smile, feeling warmed that Hunk really does consider him a brother even though they barely talk and hardly have any shared interests. Without Voltron, they probably wouldn’t have become friends at all. “Right.”

Hunk beams at him, moving around in the kitchen area, alternating places between the microwave, the oven and the food goo dispenser. Keith watches him in silent amazement because he himself can cook spam and rice over a camping cooker and that’s basically it. And then there’s Hunk who manages to create tasty food out of ingredients he’s never even heard of or could have imagined.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Keith says into the silence and feels himself blush again when Hunk looks at him, stopping mid-stir to stare at him. He already regrets having said anything at all but then Hunk wipes away an imaginary tear (but is it really, he wonders) and sighs,

“Aww, Keith. You’re just a big softy, aren’t you?” Keith grumbles up at him but only earns himself a happy laugh from Hunk and a wink. “But don’t worry, Galra Keith. I’ll keep your secret!”

Keith rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother arguing against the added Galra to his name. It’s true after all, isn’t it? He _is_ Galra. Or at least some part of him is.

Hunk continues cooking looking a little less harried, less haunted (and Keith prays that neither of them will ever see snow again and even never seems too soon if you ask him) and Keith goes back to playing with his knife, very determinedly not thinking about Lance. It’s almost peaceful until their tiny bubble is of course interrupted by none other than Lance himself.

Keith nearly hits his head on the counter in surprise when Lance’s voice sounds inside the kitchen and hastily proceeds to curl into as tiny a ball as he can, sending a pleading look up at Hunk whose mouth is already open, glancing at him in worry.

“Hey Hunk!” Lance says from the direction of the door and Keith screws his eyes shut. Noooo, please don’t let him come closer or, god forbid, around the counter. Go away, Lance. Keith does not want to talk now. Or ever, really.

“Oh hey,” Hunk replies after a second of frowning down at Keith before his face splits into the familiar happy smile that’s reserved for Lance and Lance only, the best friend Hunk has. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Keith? I’ve been looking all over for him and he’s just, poof, gone.”

“Nope,” Hunk says, not even hesitating in his lie and sounding completely honest. “Have you looked on the training deck yet?”

“First place I went to,” Lance huffs back. “That sneaky bastard is just gone. I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Why would he do that?” Hunk asks, genuinely curious and Keith stifles a desperate groan. Goddamn it, Lance.

“Beats me,” Lance says. Keith swallows and contemplates standing up and facing him for exactly half a second before he ruthlessly extinguishes that stupid notion. Nope, not happening. “I think he might be embarrassed that I had to save him back on that ice moon. Again.”

“Well, he can’t stay hidden forever,” Hunk says after a moment. “He’ll show up again. I mean, not even Keith would miss the Feast, would he?” He sounds worried. Lance laughs.

“Don’t worry, bud, not even Keith would miss out on your food. Guess I’ll go ask Pidge, I’m pretty sure she’s been hacking into the security feeds again… You need help with anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. See you later?”

“Yeah!”

And with that, Lance is gone again and Keith releases a long, long breath of relief, uncurling and relaxing slightly. That is, until Hunk’s heavy steps shuffle closer and he can feel the Yellow Paladin standing right next to him. Keith peeks out from under his bangs and winces when he sees that Hunk’s arms are crossed over his chest and he is very obviously judging him.

“Really? You’re hiding from _Lance_?” Hunk is very much not impressed. Keith probably wouldn’t be either, in his place. He pouts slightly and looks away, playing with the knife again.

“It’s… complicated.” He really, really hopes that Hunk won’t ask further.

Except everybody tends to forget that Hunk has no concept of personal space or privacy and will happily dig through your diary while looking for a protein bar. The big guy poses as a harmless teddy bear who is content to eat and cuddle but in reality, he’s a ruthless seeker of truth – no wonder he and Pidge get along so well.

“That’s a Facebook relationship status,” Hunk tells him and Keith frowns up at him. What? “C’mon, spill. I promise I won’t tell on you but seriously, why are you hiding? Is it really because Lance saved you? We save each other all the time.” Hunk crouches down next to him and then effortlessly bends both knees into a crisscrossed, Indian style position. Keith vaguely feels reminded of those Buddha statues except this one has a very serious expression instead of the serene smile. “I mean, you saved my hide and Lance saved yours, next time you get to be the hero again. No problem, right?”

“That’s not it,” Keith sighs, defeated. Hiding is exhausting and so is being alone with your thoughts. And Hunk promised not to tattle…

“Then what?”

“It’s…”

“If you say complicated again…”

“But it is!” Keith protests, a little louder than planned. He stops, sighs and tries again. “It really is. I’m not… I don’t know how to deal with it and it’s just… confusing and complicated and I want it gone. It’s in the way. It keeps distracting me! I nearly died twice already, I need it to go away!” He lets the knife sink to the floor and covers his face with both hands.

It’s silent for a moment while Hunk obviously thinks over Keith’s rambles. Then –

“Dude, do you have a crush on Lance?” Keith lifts his head so fast he nearly gets whiplash, staring at Hunk in horror.

“What? No!” Hunk hastily raises both hands in defense, quickly saying,

“I just – you know, it sounds like it? And it’s really not a problem, honestly, I’d be happy if Lance finally finds somebody who really likes him and stops flirting with everything within five feet and oh, maybe you guys will stop bickering so much…” He trails off thoughtfully, his expression open and happy, and Keith shakes his head.

“I don’t have a crush on Lance,” he grits out. “It’s his stupid… everything. And his waist.”

“His… what?”

“His waist! It’s always – it’s just _there_ and I can’t stop staring and it keeps distracting me when it really shouldn’t and… ugh!”

“Um.” Hunk blinks at him owlishly, clearly not having expected such an outburst. “Anything else?”

“Anyth… Hunk, are you listening? It’s distracting me! And he was looking straight at me when I woke up in the healing pod, he knows! And he wants to _talk_!”

“That’s… kinda what people do?”

“I don’t,” Keith tells him with a huff.

“… We’re talking right now. And you talk to Shiro and Pidge and everyone.”

“That’s different!”

“Because we’re not Lance?”

“I… Yes.”

“So what’s different?”

“Everything!” Keith groans, hiding his face in his arms again, knees pulled up even closer. “He’s… he’s just there and – he talks and riles me up and I don’t know… he’s so annoying and loud and I _hate_ him but he’s also a really good person and he cares and- and he’s a pretty good fighter if he’d just stop doubting himself and his sharpshooting skills are really good and…” He pauses. Freezes.

Quiznak.

“I have a crush on Lance.” He doesn’t look up but he just _knows_ that Hunk is giving him this pitiful smile before reaching over and patting Keith’s shoulder in sympathy.

“Sorry to be the one to tell you but uh, yeah, you kinda do,” Hunk says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I mean, Pidge and I had this betting pool except Shiro told us to stop betting on you guys but then Coran joined in and Allura too…”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Keith groans, looking up at Hunk in mortification. “Does everyone know?!”

“Um, I think Lance doesn’t?”

“Great.” He groans again, for good measure, and shakes his head. “Then you can stop this- this betting pool or whatever. It’s not happening.”

“What?! But – but now you can tell him and-“

“Did you hit your head harder than we thought on that ice moon?” Keith looks up at him, set face into a serious expression. He’s made up his mind and this fun little revelation or epiphany or whatever it was is not going to reach Lance, ever. They only just managed to pull themselves together enough to really, truly become a team and something like that will only disrupt their harmony. Not to mention the bone crushing mortification of confessing to someone you like.

Nope, not happening.

“I’m not telling him anything,” Keith says decisively. “This isn’t gonna leave this kitchen, you got me?” He glares at Hunk for good measure and Hunk, bless his big heart and kind soul, immediately shuts his mouth that was already opened and ready to argue and nods. “I just – I’ll just stay away from him until it passes and then we’ll be good to go.” Hunk looks positively heartbroken and carefully touches Keith’s shoulder but Keith shrugs it away, unwilling to talk about this more. He makes him himself small again, invulnerable, drawing the walls back up because that’s familiar and it’s safe and screw how lonely it actually is.

“… Well, it’s your decision,” Hunk sighs after a few minutes. “I won’t tell him. You really should talk to him, though.”

Keith doesn’t answer and Hunk doesn’t press him anymore, thankfully. Instead, Hunk sighs again and stands up to return to his cooking.

They don’t talk anymore after that.

After the silence becomes too much for Keith, he slinks away, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, to go hide somewhere else. This time, he goes to find Red because she never judges, never makes him feel like a coward. And true to that, she immediately starts purring in his mind the second he steps into the hangars and sends him warming, uplifting images of warm summer days and the bridge full of alien kittens and eating ice cream with Shiro when they were younger. He bites his lip before he can do something emotional and stupid like start to cry and walks faster until he has reached her, climbing up on one paw and hugging her leg, feeling small and tiny but protected by her as she moves, ever so slightly, to lean her giant head against him, touching his shoulder with the very tip of her nose.

“Shame you can’t just melt those stupid feelings with your lasers,” he mumbles into the metal of her leg. “Feelings suck.” Red rumbles, sending something like amusement through their bond but also the warm embrace of a loved one, Shiro’s laughter. More kittens, wet snouts and big eyes and cute noises.

“Yeah I know,” he sighs. “Love you too, girl.” She rumbles again, booping him with her nose as gently as she can and still jostling him hard enough that he nearly slips off her paw. He laughs a little helplessly and turns around to stroke her nose too. They remain like that, silently conversing in images and impressions until it’s time for dinner, her fiery energy wrapping around him like a cocoon of safety, burning away the worries and the fears. It doesn’t change the fact that he desperately wants his stupid, newly discovered feelings for Lance to go away but he does feel better here with her, safe and warm and… loved.

Sadly, Lance was right – and not even Keith can stay away from Hunk’s cooking. Especially since he hasn’t eaten since breakfast because in between avoiding Lance, it’s not like he can just carelessly grab a bite to eat. He deeply regrets not eating while he was hiding in the kitchen; that would have been the perfect opportunity and he completely wasted it and now he has to go face the others and, most importantly, Lance.

Keith has never been much of a good actor, mostly because he just doesn’t see the point in pretending to be something he isn’t. Sure, he’s been tossed around for that and people can’t always deal with him and his straightforward ways but… it’s the way he is and screw everyone who tries to change him. Except now it might come back to bite him in the ass because he has to go to the dining hall and pretend like he hasn’t been avoiding Lance the past two days and then somehow find a way to slink away again so he can hide some more until this stupid crush goes away.

Red is still sending him encouraging images of sunsets and mountain ranges when he steps into the dining hall and finds himself face to face with Lance. Because of course.

“Keith!”

“Uh… hey Lance…” He tries to avoid further eye contact and to somehow walk around Lance who was apparently just about to exit but they just end up doing this weird sidestepping dance you do when two people try to make way for the other – except Lance’s determined face makes it very clear that he’s not trying to let Keith pass, au contraire. He even makes a grab for Keith’s wrist, glaring at him.

“Dude, what’s with you? Will you – just stop – look at me!” He manages to grab Keith’s wrist, squeezing it a bit to prevent him from making a break for it and Keith _panics_. He yanks his wrist away almost violently so Lance stumbles forward and nearly crashes into the door but he does let go and Keith quickly retreats a few steps, just out of reach.

“What the hell, Keith,” Lance huffs at him. “You’ve been avoiding me for two days, I just want to talk to you. You can’t just say things like that to me and then-”

“I don’t wanna talk,” Keith interrupts, shaking his head and looking away. “Sorry, I uh… I forgot something down in the hangars…” He turns to leave as fast as he can but he clearly has underestimated Lance’s determination to catch him. Once again, Lance grabs his arm and this time, he’s not letting go, turning Keith around with force and grabbing his shoulder with his other hand.

“Yeah no, we’re not doing that stupid dance,” Lance tells him, still not letting go despite Keith’s struggle to free himself. “You and I will talk and we will do it _now_.”

“Let _go of me_ ,” Keith hisses. “You can’t force me!”

“Oh, just watch me, buddy!” The  struggle continues, the empty hallway filled with quiet grunts and swearing until Keith finally manages to land a well-aimed kick with the side of his foot against the inside of Lance’s knee, causing him to lose balance. Except he’s of course still holding on to Keith so they both tumble to the floor, Lance forwards and Keith backwards so that Keith lands painfully on his ass and Lance right on top of him, almost straddling him.

For a long, long moment, they just stare at each other, faces too close and breaths intermingling, legs tangled with each other. Keith gasps quietly, just the smallest intake of breath, staring into Lance’s surprised face. He’s pretty sure he can count every freckle on Lance’s nose, almost invisible on his sun-kissed skin. From there, his gaze almost automatically wanders down because he’s a helpless idiot and his brain is very much not listening to him, just doing whatever it wants. And apparently, it wants to look at Lance’s waist again, this time accentuated by his spread legs and the way his jeans are clinging to them, the way his shirt – hanging pretty loosely around his hips – is revealing just the tiniest sliver of tantalizing skin.

Keith is so screwed.

He opens his mouth, ready to say something, anything, but he never gets the chance to actually form words.

“Keith? Lance? What’s going on?” They both start, looking over to where Shiro has appeared around the corner, sizing them up with a mixture of confusion and worry.

“Nothing,” Keith says at once and uses the chance to break free from Lance’s grip, sliding out from under him by pushing the other boy away with almost too much force. “We were just… j-just, nothing.” He scrambles to his feet, turning tail and fleeing, ignoring the calls of his name from the other two. No way in hell is he turning around and facing that clusterfuck of a situation.

He’s almost made it back to Red’s hangar, their mental link already filled to the brim with his panicked, harried thoughts and her calming presence, when the castle’s alarms suddenly blare to life.

“Galra!!” Coran’s voice yells through the comms and Keith barks out a nearly hysteric laugh.  

He’d never thought he’d be glad for the Galra but here he is, thanking the heavens for this chance to delay the inevitable just a little longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith proceeds to be a colossal idiot about feelings, a fight is fought and Shiro, Hunk and Pidge are absolutely done.  
> Bonus points for finding the Harry Potter reference ;)

When it happens a fifth time, Keith simply gives up. He’s tried to deny it, tried to ignore it and now he simply cannot ignore it any longer, not when it keeps endangering the entire team. Instincts be damned, he swears to resolve it – and he’s never broken a promise.

 

* * *

 

 

“We have to form Voltron!” That is about the last thing Keith wants to do right now, Robeast and Galra fleet be damned. Because forming Voltron always means that five quite literally become one and while it’s not exactly like they become one being, it’s pretty close to it. Their minds are separate but connected so that every thought sooner rather than later reaches the others and there’s a variety of reasons why Keith is not exactly on board with letting the others in right now.

For someone like Keith who’s spent the majority of his life as some sort of hermit, forming Voltron has been a rather curious experience since day one. He’s not sure why he has let the others in or why it was so effortless for him but he’s felt much better since they bonded as a team; he doesn’t feel as alone anymore, less worried about being left alone – though that was the sole reason why he has sworn to himself to never get attached again after Shiro disappeared. And now Keith is here in space with him, fighting against a legion of aliens who want to enslave the entire known universe. But it’s not only Shiro, of course – Pidge and Hunk and Allura and Coran and… well, Lance. And that last one is really the root of the problem, isn’t it?

He maneuvers Red away from the others, aiming her jaw at the approaching Robeast instead.

“Keith, what the hell! What are you doing?!” Lance’s voice is high with tension and anger. Shiro joins in,

“Keith, come back here at once!” His tone is that of Disapproving Senior Officer. But Keith doesn’t have it in him to care; he knows that he’s doomed if they form Voltron now, knows that it won’t work as smoothly as it should and that in the worst case, they won’t manage to form Voltron at all. Because he’s simply not in the right headspace, cannot clear his mind enough to concentrate on the others and their one goal.

Instead, he does what he does best – charging in. He doesn’t have a plan but then, he rarely has one; he’s not a strategist, doesn’t really plan ahead and instead reacts to what’s there in reality. He’s never seen the point in calculating anything ahead – in his experience, neither people nor enemies ever behave the way somebody else has planned. The Galra always have one more ace up their slave, people always say anything but what he wants them to say and the only certain thing about the future has been and will always be uncertainty, for him.

He dives under a swinging arm of the Robeast, hitting it from behind with Red’s tail to overbalance it so its open maw tips forward and shoots into open space instead of firing another blast of energy at the others. It whirls around to him, so much faster than it should be able to, all whirring parts and rotating eyes and frankly, the stuff of nightmares, much like anything the Galra throw at them. He really hopes that one day, they’ll be able to shut down the druids and their grotesque experiments, that no more things like Shiro’s or Sendak’s arms or these Robeasts will be created anymore.

“Keith, you goddamn idiot! Come back!” That’s Pidge, yelling at the top of her lungs. He should probably feel guilty and he knows he will later but not now. Now, his focus is entirely on the Robeast while the others fight off the Galra fleet all around them; it wouldn’t be wise to form Voltron now anyway, not with so many different small targets.

At least that’s what he tells himself to calm his conscience.

“I’ll draw the Robeast away from you,” he tells the others, teeth gritted as he moves Red’s body away just in time to avoid getting hit by a flailing arm, equipped with razor sharp claws that have already left deep scratches on both Yellow and Black.

“Like hell you will, you asshat,” Lance yells back and Keith curses heartily as he sees Blue leave their formation and dive to his help. “You’ll never do this alone!”

“We’ll talk about this later!” Shiro threatens. “For now, Lance and Keith – you lure the Robeast away from the castle and the fleet, be careful! We’ll take care of the Galra and try to take out their flagship!”

“Gotcha!” Lance replies but Keith remains quiet, too focused on blasting the Robeast with a well-aimed laser shot. He and Lance simultaneously go into a nosedive with their lions, circling each other to keep the movement sensors of their opponent occupied. It follows them immediately, just as planned.

“I really hope you have a plan for this,” Lance grumbles, his face on the screen to his right pinched with concentration.

“… Not really,” Keith admits and earns himself a string of Spanish curse words.

“I cannot believe you!” Blue moves out of the nosedive and away from Red so Keith is forced to mirror the movement, causing the Robeast to pause for a second, spinning around madly and contemplating which of them is the easier target. Truth is, neither of them is an easy target. Between the two of them and Shiro, they’re really good pilots and being connected to the Lions on such a deep level that their minds are always, always in touch with them gives them an edge that the Robeasts, mechanical and filled to the brim with organic quintessence, simply don’t have and hopefully never will.

“We have to keep it moving, it charges its weapon every time it pauses!” Keith shouts and turns Red upwards so he flies into a looping before diving straight down again, centrifugal force pressing him against his seat.

“I noticed!” Lance replies as he dodges another laser just by a hair’s width and Keith desperately tries to quench the sudden terror that takes hold of him. God, what if Lance dies?

He’s always known that it’s very possible that neither of them will survive this war long enough to return to Earth. Not that Keith particularly wants to go back but the others do and that’s enough. But he’s never thought about dying in more than an abstract way – not until recently, at least. His first brush with death on that ice moon has him on edge suddenly, the bitter taste of fear and dread sharp on his tongue.

But that was just him.

He’s a fighter, a soldier, a warrior. Those are made and build to fight, to conquer and, ultimately, to die. He knows that he’ll probably be the first to go, reckless and prone to risking his own life so the ones he cares about are safe.

But Lance…

Lance isn’t a soldier, not at heart. At heart he’s kind and funny and unerringly loyal and caring and just so, so good, so much better than Keith could ever be and so much more than Keith deserves, brilliant as the sun and deep as the ocean, no matter how silly his jokes are or how ridiculous his antics.

And Keith is utterly and helplessly in love with him.

Keith realizes with a start that he absolutely cannot let Lance die, not over something as stupid as this, not when his whole family is waiting for him to return and be his usual obnoxious self. A plan starts to form inside his head and he can practically feel Red’s disapproval before it melts into understanding and he’s never been so grateful for her and the similarities in their personalities.

But the Lion chooses the Paladin, of course, so it all makes sense.

“Move to the left, Lance!” And Lance does just that because he’s learned not to question immediately but save it for later if Keith tells him to do something in a fight. They work so well together – Lance’s strategic planning and Keith’s quick reaction, no wonder they’re paired up so often and not just because melee and distance go hand in hand.

Keith uses the chance to swoop in right before the Robeast’s metaphorical nose, luring its attention away from Lance and onto himself. It latches onto him like a cat to a mouse and he sends Red spinning, dodging another shot, but his plan works out and the monster actually follows him.

“What the- quzinak Keith, what are you doing?!”

“I have a plan,” Keith replies, knowing full well that it’s a dangerous and risky plan and it might get him killed very, very soon. But it’s the only plan he has and, well... better him than Lance.

He doesn’t listen to Lance’s angry yelling, even thinks of just jamming his comms completely but he decides against it. If this does go wrong, he wants to not be alone in the end. It’s just a natural response to possible imminent death, he tells himself as he dives and shoots and makes the Robeast follow him straight back to the Galra fleet. Red’s speed works in his advantage here and he’s suddenly fiercely glad that Blue can’t match it; that way, Lance is always a bit behind, out of danger.

“Keith!!” Lance keeps yelling, cursing him in two languages but Keith ignores him, too focused on what he’s trying to do.

The plan is this: make the Robeast follow him, focus its fire on him so the others are out of danger; this, at least, hasn’t changed from the moment he broke out of their Voltron formation. The new part includes making the Robeast fire on the Galra flagship to take it out so the smaller ships will be forced to retreat and the castle can make an escape.

So far, so good.

The only problem is, of course, that Keith only has one idea how to get the monster to fire on the flagship and he’s fairly sure that none of the others will like it. But then, this is why _he’s_ the one who’s going to do it. Red is purring in his mind, worry mixing with encouragement, as they dive and evade and dodge and barrelroll their way back to the main fleet. The Robeast follows him, letting out a whole barrage of shots that he just barely manages to evade, one of them grazing Red enough to make her whole body vibrate with the shock.

“C’mon, girl,” Keith hisses, cheering her on. She fires an answering shot straight into the Robeast’s maw, throwing it back enough to make it pause – though that of course is not a good thing, considering that it charges every time it stops. He reacts quickly, flying right circles around it to not give it enough time to actually gather enough energy to fill up its laser. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Blue approaching and quickly fires at the Robeast to make it move again, successfully guiding it away from Lance again.

The Galra flagship is right ahead now.

Red purrs in his mind, both question and encouragement, and he nods.

“I know,” he mumbles. A deep breath and then suddenly, he’s utterly calm, all traces of panic and fear gone from his heart. He briefly wonders if it’s Red’s doing, her cocooning warmth and calm around his mind, but there is no time to find out right now. He activates the extra thrusters on Red’s hindlegs to give himself a boost and speeds away, right ahead of the Robeast – and crashes straight into the side of the flagship.

“Keith!”

“Keith?!”

“No!!”

He can hear the others yelling over the comms but ignores them, doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too busy maneuvering Red enough so that her body isn’t half hanging out of the damned warship of the Galra, presenting the perfect target for the Robeast. He manages to hit her front thrusters to push himself out of the wrecked hull (catching sight of approaching sentries and Galra soldiers inside the actual ship) and turn around, just in time to face the Robeast that’s already readying the next and probably final attack.

“Keith, no! Get out of there!” Lance’s voice is once again high and shrill with worry and Keith allows himself, just for one moment, to believe that Lance really and honestly cares about him. Not just as a teammate but the way he cares for Lance – the way his heart beats faster with too many unknown emotions, the way he craves being near him, no matter how annoying Lance is at the moment. For that one moment, Keith closes his eyes and allows himself to imagine that they’re more, that they’re _enough_.

Then he opens his eyes, staring straight into the laser shot coming at him and _moves_ , diving away at the last possible second, the shot singing Red’s back and her tail but not enough to stop him. The shot hits the ship and not a tic later, it explodes in a flash of fire and broken metal, silent in the void of space where no noise has ever survived. He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and slumps in his seat.

“Don’t you _ever_ do something like that again!” Pidge shrieks into the comms, voice tinged with something that sounds like a sob. “I swear to God, I’ll…!”

“Keith, get back here _now_ ,” Shiro orders and Keith winces a little, knowing full well that he’s earned himself a capital L Lecture from him. But they’re not out of danger yet; the blast has taken out the flagship but the myriads of smaller fighter ships are still around and so is the Robeast albeit the latter seems slightly disoriented from the explosion.

“We still need to take the Robeast out,” he argues and Hunk groans over the comms.

“Yes and that is precisely why you should come back,” he urges. “So we can form Voltron and kick its butt!”

“It doesn’t really have a butt,” Keith mumbles back to which Shiro groans and yells,

“Cut it out! We’re forming Voltron, guys, that’s the only way!” Keith grits both his teeth and hands, forming fists around the handles of Red’s controls. He knows they have to form Voltron, knows that it’s the best way of handling this situation quickly but…

He just can’t.

“No,” he says simply, face set into a stubborn frown. “It’s not! Hunk – use your bayard and fire at it, go!”

“But…!”

“No buts, do it _now_!” He can hear Shiro curse over the comms (and Shiro never curses so Keith knows he’s really, really in trouble with his best friend now) and Hunk mumble to himself about making up their damn minds before the giant laser canon finally forms on Yellow’s back.

“Aim at its mouth!” Lance yells, firing at a passing fighter ship and then aiming his own ice blast at the Robeast.

“Everyone, fire together!” Shiro now finally agrees to Keith’s idea and thankfully, the others listen. Mere moments later, the Robeast opens its maw again to release another shot but they all dive away and then fire almost at the same time, Hunk’s giant laser first and swiftly followed by everyone else. Their combined firepower flies straight into the beast’s open mouth right before it closes to recharge and for a tic, nothing happens. But then the Robeast finally explodes in a bright cloud of red fire and the ever present purple of the Galra, leaving only the small fighter class ships.

Keith grins in triumph but his grin freezes when Allura’s voice suddenly sounds over the comms,

“Paladins! The castle has been breached; we need you back here now!”

He swears.

The Galra must have known that they’d be too preoccupied with the Robeast and the fleet to pay attention to the castle, deeming it safe because of the particle barrier. But the barrier is fickle at best and a giant mess at worst so of course, of course it decided to give out to the newest Galra invasion.

“You heard the princess!” Shiro shouts. “Everyone, back to the hangars!”

This time, Keith follows the order. Mostly because there’s no need to form Voltron anymore but also because he’s pretty sure that if he disobeys again, Shiro will probably give him that Disappointed Look of his and that is something that Keith simply can’t bear after the stress of the past few weeks and his revelation about Lance. He’ll be lucky if he even still gets a lecture; he has the feeling that he already moved past that and straight into Disappointed Look territory.

Red starts purring in his mind to somehow calm him and he can feel the corners of his mouth twitch into the weak semblance of a smile when she sends him loving pictures of the sun and campfires and a bowl of kimchi, for some reason; he hasn’t eaten kimchi in years and suddenly feels the absurd craving for it right now.

“Thanks for that, girl,” he grumbles but there’s amusement in his voice and she knows it, sends back that pulsating warmth that he knows is her laughter. But then she grows serious again and sends him pictures that she’s apparently picking up straight from the castle because he can see Galra moving around the familiar hallways in his mind. He nods, flying back to his own hangar.

He’s out of his seat before Red’s paws have touched the ground and is already sliding down the ramp that extends from her before its fully out, jumping and hitting the floor in an instinctive roll because no matter how much Lance insists that sticking a landing looks much cooler, experience has taught Keith that a swift roll is a much better and healthier way of landing, especially for his knees. Red roars somewhere behind him as he sprints into the hallway just outside her hangar, a warning ringing out in his mind as half a dozen Galra sentries immediately start shooting at him.

Keith dives out of the way of the first shot, conjuring his sword and shield at the same time so he can hold up the shield while he runs closer. Hit, swipe, duck, dodge, hit, kick, evade, swipe, duck, roll – the ever familiar dance isn’t something he really has to think about, almost losing himself in the muscle memory of movements.

He’s a soldier at heart and this is what he was born to do – fight.

He makes short work of the sentries and continues his way back to the bridge, encountering several other groups of fighters but thankfully, none pose a problem. Of course they don’t; aside from maybe Shiro and Allura, Keith is easily the best-trained melee fighter so it’s no wonder that he’s moving closer and closer to the bridge with no major problems.

“I’m surrounded!” Pidge announces over the comms then, sounding out of breath and desperate. “Some help, guys?!”

“I’m on it!” Keith answers and runs back to where the hallway splits, one of the paths leading to the Green Lion’s hangar and the other one to his own.

“I’m at the bridge now!” Shiro yells. “We need more fire power here!”

“Coming!” Lance replies at once and Keith hopes that they’ll be okay. But they should be – between Shiro, Allura and Lance, they should have the situation under control in no time. Hell, even Coran probably knows how to fight even though they’ve never seen him do anything like it. But Pidge is the smallest and least experienced in battle so Keith takes it onto himself to help her while Hunk quickly announces that he’ll be at the bridge soon too.

He nearly runs into another patrol of sentries who are swarming the castle hallways like overgrown, purple and metal ants. Cutting his way through them, he can already see a far larger group ahead and the green whir of energy and muffled curses that is Pidge. He doesn’t waste any time with yelling her name or doing anything else to alert the sentries to his presence, instead charging right into them from behind and mercilessly running his sword into them.

“I’m going to hack into all of your things!” Pidge threatens when she spots him, throwing her bayard out so it electrocutes three sentries at once. “Don’t think I won’t after that stunt you pulled!” Keith grunts in reply, not knowing what to say and also too out of breath from all the running and fighting to really spare any for a response to her threat. Instead, he runs his blade into a sentry and lifts it with only mild effort, swinging the robot still pierced on the blade to the side so it flies off and takes down another sentry who was just getting ready to shoot at Pidge. She pays it no mind, too busy fighting off another sentry who appeared behind her and deftly kicking it in the legs to over-balance it before she rams her bayard into its side and then whirls around to drop to the floor when a second robot tries to grab her.

He has no idea how much time passes while he and Pidge take out more and more sentries but there’s seemingly no end to them. They probably breached the castle somewhere close to the Green Lion’s hangar, that’s why there’s so many of them here; which, hopefully, means that the bridge and the rest of the castle aren’t as swarmed as this part of it.

“The bridge is clear!” Allura shouts over the comms in that moment, sounding relieved. “Pidge, Keith, how are you holding up?”

“Better!” Pidge answers and uses a fallen sentry as a trampoline as she jumps off of it and lands on the back of a robot that Keith has been fighting, zapping it with her bayard until it crumples to the ground in a heap of useless metal.

“Lance is on his way to you two,” Coran adds, sounding surprisingly chipper for somebody who just faced down a small army of Galra sentries. “Hunk and Shiro will clear the rest of the castle together.”

“Got it!”

Wherever the robots have been pouring in from, it seems like their flow has finally stopped by the time Lance calls their names. And Keith, because he’s a weak, weak idiot when it comes to Lance, instinctively looks up at the sound of his voice and maybe it’s the purple light from the sentry armors on the floor or the bright lights of the castle hallways – but Keith is pretty sure that Lance has never looked so ethereal and beautiful before, appearing around a corner like an angel of vengeance and war with the way he’s clutching his bayard and running towards them, face set into the grim expression of concentration while he’s already shooting and taking off sentries from behind.

Keith’s not even surprised when his gaze automatically drops to Lance’s waist, simply appreciates the lines of it this time, desperately wishing that he was allowed to touch, to trace it with his fingertips, to find out just what it is exactly that’s so utterly distracting about it. To map it to his memory so he can just keep it to himself and return to it whenever he wants to instead of getting distracted every time he gets a glimpse of it.

“Keith, look out!”

He doesn’t even have time to blink when Pidge suddenly slams into him, knocking the breath out of him as both of them slam into the floor. A laser shot zips over his head and fizzles out as it hits something and Keith looks up in horror, already knowing what happened before he sees it. Because of course that shot has hit Lance, knocking him off his feet and leaving a gaping hole in his armor, blackened at the edges from the heat and revealing blistering red skin, a burn blooming across his ribs.

“No,” he breathes, scrambling out from under Pidge and towards Lance, dropping next to his knees next to him and lifting his motionless form. “No, no, no! Lance!” Pidge curses behind him and he knows he should be paying attention, should be helping her take out the last of the sentries, should be doing his actual job but he simply can’t move, can just cradle Lance’s still body to his chest and stare at the blistering wound.

“You can’t die,” he whispers, his voice nearly breaking. “Please, I… God, Lance… Not when I just figured it all out, I… I’m in love with you, I need you, please… you can’t die….”

It’s some sort of cruel and twisted irony that just after Keith has realized that he couldn’t bear Lance dying, he gets shot during an attack on the castle. He hates his life, hates fate, hates the _Galra_ for taking away something that could have been, this maybe that he never would have the balls to demand for himself. But now that Lance lies motionless in his arms, he fiercely and desperately wishes that he’d had the courage to face Lance and tell him everything, to confess and to expose his stupid, vulnerable heart to him earlier.

He wishes he could turn back time.

“’m… not dying… you asshat…”

Keith is pretty sure he suffers a heart attack. He chokes on a breath that’s almost a sob and stares at Lance, stares at the way his eyes flutter open, his face a grimace of pain but alive, wonderfully and gloriously alive. One corner of Lance’s mouth is lifted in the pathetic semblance of his trademark smirk and he asks, voice scratchy and weak,

“So… you’re in love w-with me…? Ha…”Keith can’t speak, just continues to stare. Lance coughs and groans in pain, one hand covering the hole in his armor and hissing with pain as his gloved fingers touch the wound. But it doesn’t stop him from giving Keith another small, weak grin and mumbling,

“It’s good, y’know… ‘cause I’m… kinda in love with you too…”

“Oh for the love of-!” Pidge yells before Keith can even formulate a thought in response to that confession. “Is this really the time for this?? There’s a war going on!” Lance breathes out a laugh and then grimaces in pain again while Keith absolutely cannot find anything funny about this statement. He’s still frozen with the horror of seeing Lance get shot and the relief of seeing him alive, still reeling from the confession that followed his. He’s never been good with words and even less with feelings and this is all definitely a little too much for him so he’s immensely grateful for the fact that Pidge is a good enough fighter to take out the rest of sentries on her own.

The heavy slam of metal onto the floor announces the final robot’s demise and then Pidge appears in Keith’s line of vision, hitting him over the head with her (thankfully deactivated) bayard.

“You – goddamn – idiot!” Each word is accompanied by a hit and Keith is very glad for his helmet right now. He winces as he looks up at her and her eyes soften a little even though her expression remains serious. “I can’t lose any of you, you ass. You’re my family now… so don’t you dare do anything like that ever again!”

“I,” Keith says, way too overwhelmed by everything. “I promise?” She nods once and then slumps to the floor next to them, tension bleeding out of her small body as she leans a little against Keith and closing her eyes.

“I hate the Galra,” she tells him and he can only silently agree to that. It’s silent for a second, then Lance pipes up,

“Hate to interrupt but… I think I… really need a nap…”

And with that, he finally loses consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, we finally move on to the smut.  
> That is, if I can figure out how to make Keith get his head out of his ass long enough to actually do what I want him to do for once.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter.  
> A thank you to all of my readers, to all those who've left encouraging comments and kudos and the sneaky silent subscribers! I love all of you and I'm grateful and I'm handing you the long-awaited smut ;)

If it would be possible to sink through the floor and disappear, Keith would immediately take this opportunity the very second Lance is safely stuck inside the healing pod, the others have filed out of the med bay to just relax and Shiro’s eyes land on Keith. They’re alone now, just Lance and the pod there to keep them company in the peaceful silence of the pod room.

Keith swallows and opens his mouth,

“Shiro…” The oldest Paladin holds up a hand to stop him and Keith instantly shuts up, snapping his mouth shut again, instead worrying at his lower lip, waiting for the lecture to start.

“What you did today,” Shiro starts, voice tight and dripping with disappointment, “was really risky and irresponsible. You disobeyed a direct order, _twice_ , and then risked your life unnecessarily instead of trusting your team to help you. That’s…” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s a huge setback for all of us – I thought we were really past this. I don’t need to tell you how utterly disappointed I am in you.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith blurts out, cheeks flushed red from shame. “I just… I couldn’t…”

“You didn’t trust us,” Shiro says quietly, sounding sad. “And you didn’t trust me. Keith, you and I… we’re basically brothers at this point. I thought you trust me…”

“I do!” Keith blurts. “But this… I didn’t know – it was all so…”

“Just... what is going on with you?”

“I…” Keith hesitates, glancing at Lance’s still form inside the healing pod, features tinted blue by the screen. Are there really words for this? He knows why he did all of it, knows why he disobeyed an order and let the team down. But if he tries to put it into words, he feels like all of it just dissipates into a mess of emotions he’s not used to.

“I was scared,” he admits quietly, looking down and desperately trying to swallow against the lump in his throat. “I didn’t… there are so many feelings and I just… I didn’t know what to do. I just knew that – it wouldn’t have worked out. Voltron, I mean. I just couldn’t. And then Lance followed me and I just…” He stops, shaking his head helplessly.

“… You really like him, don’t you.” It’s not a question and yet it causes Keith to look up at Shiro, finding some sort of fond sadness on his face. Keith nods, feeling exposed and vulnerable and lost until Shiro finally takes a step towards him and pulls him into a hug.

“It’s human to be scared,” he says and Keith screws his eyes shut, melting into the hug and utterly thankful for Shiro’s warm and calm presence. “All of us are. It’s what sets us apart as a species – we get scared and panic and then we pull through. And admitting your feelings to somebody? It’s downright terrifying, I know. And I wish you’d talk to me about it – had I known about this earlier, I could have helped you.”

“But – but I’m not human,” Keith argues, thinking back to those hours he’s spent doing the challenge the Blade of Marmora gave him. “I’m not…”

“Yes, you are,” Shiro replies, his tone not letting any room for doubts. “You’re just as human as the rest of us, no matter what your DNA says. You hear me? You’re human and you’re part of this team so please trust us?”

“I’m so sorry,” Keith whispers into the chest piece of Shiro’s armor. Shiro sighs a little and then lifts one hand from the small of Keith’s back to gently ruffle his hair.

“Just… promise me this won’t happen again? You can always trust me, no matter what’s going on.” Keith nods, huffing out a shaky breath that might turn into a sob at the end but Shiro is kind enough not to say anything about it. They remain like this for a little while before they let go of each other and Keith shuffles his feet a little, a bit awkward.

Shiro heaves out a heavy sigh and pats his shoulder, giving him a small, tired smile.

“Well, I’m turning in,” he says. “Let’s hope the Galra won’t ambush us tomorrow because I’m going to sleep for about the next three days…” Keith laughs quietly and nods, bone tired himself. But he watches Shiro leave first and then looks at Lance’s pod again, working its healing science-magic on the Blue Paladin.

“You better remember what you said when you get out of there,” he tells the empty room. “Because I’m not going through that again.”

 

* * *

 

 

It turns out that Lance does, in fact, remember everything he’s said before passing out. Keith thanks his lucky stars that Lance is also much, much braver than him when it comes to things like these because as soon as he’s recovered enough from the shot wound and his stay in the healing pod, Lance immediately slings an arm around Keith’s waist and grins at him.

“Sooo~,” he drawls, looking smug. “I heard we both like each other. Does that mean I can call you bae and introduce you to my family?” Predictably, Keith blushes a bright tomato red and pushes Lance away irritably, embarrassed and questioning all his life choices that have led him here. They’re alone in the dining room, the others having filed out to do their own things and giving them privacy, probably even cashing in their winnings from that stupid betting pool.

Small blessings, he guesses.

“I don’t know why I like you so much,” he huffs but the corners of his mouth twitch a bit as Lance breaks out in a laugh.

“Shut your quiznak, mullet,” he grins and pulls Keith close again. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Keith would probably panic if he wasn’t so excited about that prospect, considering that he has kissed a total of zero people in his life. But Lance is already leaning in, eyes closing, and Keith gasps a bit when Lance’s lips (so smooth, what is this boy doing with his silly skin routine) meet his own, chapped ones. His breath catches somewhere in his throat and he feels his knees turning into jelly and when Lance leans back again, his expression is a mix of wonder and affection.

“You’re kinda really bad at this,” Lance says, the softness in his eyes making Keith more uncomfortable than the criticism. “Don’t tell me you’ve never…”

“Shut up,” Keith grumbles, looking away. He half expects Lance to gloat about it but instead, the Blue Paladin just leans their foreheads together and smiles at him, cupping Keith’s cheek with one hand.

“Nah,” Lance grins. “I’m gonna teach you.” And kisses him again.

Kissing Lance is… an experience. It’s equally exhilarating and calming, making Keith’s silly little heart flutter every time their lips touch and oooh, do they touch. Lance seems to have made it his mission to kiss Keith at every opportunity, surprising him during training and after breakfast and when Keith least expects it so he’s in a state of constant confused joy. Because of course Lance is a touchy-feely sort of person and not shy about showing his affection once he knows that it’s reciprocated – and while the others may throw them amused glances, Keith can’t help but get the feeling that everybody is really, truly happy for them.

It’s weird to be happy and comfortable and he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop because nothing in his life so far has worked out so well, be it the Garrison or growing up. He knows he’s being paranoid but he simply can’t help it, not when it’s ingrained into him by now and even though Lance keeps telling him not to overthink and brood, Keith can’t stop himself.

It’s too quiet, too nice, _too perfect_ and Keith is none of these things. This peace is bound to end at some point and he fears the moment it does.

He’s trying, once again, to drown out his whirling mind on the training deck, taking down the gladiator over and over again until his muscles are burning with the strain. His head is emptied to only focus on the training simulation and when he finishes the current level, he pauses the simulation for a chance to wipe off the sweat from his brow.

“Hey mulletboy,” Lance calls in this moment and Keith looks over to him, seeing his… boyfriend… lean casually against the doorframe of the training deck. There’s a water pouch in his hand that he throws to Keith with a grin. “Thought I’d find you in here. Are you hiding from me again?”

“No?” Keith says though maybe he is. It’s hard to tell. He takes a grateful sip from the water pouch Lance has brought him, relaxing a little and humming slightly because the water feels really great in his parched throat; he didn’t even notice how thirsty he was.

“Weirdo,” Lance tells him fondly, making grabby hands for him and Keith obediently steps closer so Lance can wrap both arms around him and kiss him soundly on the lips. He can feel the tension seeping out of his shoulders as he leans into the kiss, letting Lance take the lead, feeling the soft stirring of… something low in his gut. He tries not to pay attention to it but it’s kind of hard when Lance’s fingers fist in his shirt and his tongue darts out and oohh, jelly knees again. They separate with a quiet smacking sound and Lance leans their foreheads together again, just letting Keith breathe for a moment and regain composure.

“Talk to me?” he asks quietly and smiles this small little smile that makes Keith swoon on the inside. And how could he say no to that when he’s already such a pushover for Lance?

“It’s weird,” Keith mumbles after a moment of hesitation. “This is… it’s so… nice? I’m just not…”

“Used to it?” Lance suggests. Keith nods, taking a deep breath before continuing,

“Yeah. It’s… big. And new.”

“And scary,” Lance agrees. “Because let me tell you, I’m just as terrified as you are.”

“You are?” Keith leans back a bit, staring at him in wonder. Lance grins.

“I know, I totally seem like the guy who has it all figured out,” he says, his face and voice doing that obnoxious thing again that makes Keith want to either punch him in the nose or kiss him really hard. “But this is huge and scary and I like you so much it hurts sometimes so, yeah. I’m definitely terrified.”

Keith stares at him, not quite knowing what to say. Because it’s one thing to be scared all on his own and a whole other to learn that Lance is just as scared. He’s not the only one who’s making himself vulnerable in this relationship, not the only one who risks a lot by opening up and letting somebody in. And Lance just told him all that to make him feel less awkward and scared about this, even though Lance has obviously a bit more experience. A sudden rush of affection hits him upon this realization and he leans forward to catch Lance’s lips in a kiss, surprising him enough to make him inhale sharply because in the few weeks they’ve been doing this, Keith has never really initiated a kiss before. But after a moment of surprise, Lance completely melts into it, pulling Keith closer and easily deepening the kiss, tongue and lips and hands on Keith’s neck and waist. It’s hot and messy and Keith feels like he’s either going to explode any second or float away, grateful for the way Lance’s hands are grounding him in the here and now.

They break apart, breathing hard and chest heaving, cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming.

“Wow,” Lance breathes and Keith can only silently agree. And then, because he has no filter when Lance is around, blurts,

“I love you.”

Both of them freeze but probably out of different reasons.

Keith, he’s never said anything like that to anyone ever before, has never even really thought it about someone before. Sure, he knows he loves Red and Shiro and the rest of the team but he’d never tell any of them – except Red, of course (though she probably knew even before he opened his mouth anyway, what with their mental connection) but certainly none of the others. He’s equally horrified with himself for blurting out something so incredibly huge and glad to have it off his chest because he suddenly realizes that this, this is what he’s been wanting to say, what he’s been desperately wanting to hear back.

And Lance… Keith can’t even begin to imagine what goes on in Lance’s head. He just knows that once again, there’s a lot of emotions running across his face until his expression settles in a wide smile, showing off his teeth, brilliantly white against his brown skin. It’s so full of open joy and warmth that Keith’s breath catches in his throat again because Lance is simply beautiful.

“And here you say you’re bad with words!” Lance laughs. “You big old softy, you!” It’s the second time since they’re out in space that somebody calls him that but Keith finds that he doesn’t mind it so much when Lance says it. Not when all he’s waiting for is a whole other reply to his confession. And Lance, bless his everything, kisses Keith’s nose and tells him, smile fond and eyes soft,

“Love you too, mullet.”

For some reason, Keith has always thought that hearing these words would change his whole world. That he’d stop being afraid or that everything would somehow seem brighter, more alive. That maybe there’d be some sort of angel’s choir singing or the clouds in the sky opening up to finally reveal the sun.

None of these things happen.

The only thing that happens is that some weight he didn’t realize he’s been carrying around falls off his chest and he can breathe easier, feels just that little bit more comfortable in his own skin. It’s not huge and life-changing but small and private and so utterly perfect that Keith simply can’t help but smile at Lance, utterly besotted with this blue-eyed idiot who somehow wormed his way into his heart.

Their foreheads touch as both of them lean forward, smiling and laughing and, possibly for the first time since all of this began, completely comfortable and at ease with each other. And then they’re kissing again, just this slow, unhurried thing, melting into each other until Keith doesn’t know where he ends and Lance begins. He’s still scared but this is a good kind of fear, the familiar fear of the unknown and new, exciting and fresh.

“Come with me?” Lance whispers against his lips and Keith nods, not even knowing where they’re supposed to go and honestly not really caring. At this point, he’ll probably follow Lance to the end of the universe just to somehow stay close to him.

They stumble out of the training room, Keith’s bayard and red jacket forgotten somewhere inside, meeting over and over in more kisses. Lance pushes him against a wall, one hand on Keith’s waist and another on Keith’s butt and suddenly he’s up in the air, held up by one of Lance’s knees and pressed against the wall. A moan escapes Keith’s throat because he’s forgotten how strong Lance actually is because his tall and lanky noodle figure is nothing if not deceiving. Lance’s mouth on his muffles another moan that could come from either of them as Keith’s right hand wanders into the short brown hair and the other helplessly fists on the back of the white and blue shirt. He wraps both legs around Lance’s waist, fully appreciating the slimness of it without getting distracted by it (because it’s his, his to touch, to map, to appreciate, to enjoy), swallowing Lance’s appreciative groan as their tongues meet in the wet heat that Keith still finds somewhat weird but it also makes his gut burn with desire because it’s so very physical. Physical is something Keith understands and knows, despite not being accustomed to touch and intimacy.

But there’s something easy about the slide of tongues, about the way their bodies slot together and react to each other as if they were simply training but at the same time, it feels like more. It manages to empty his mind the way only training does and Keith fully embraces it, falls into it, loves every moment of it even as Lance’s fingers sneak under his black t-shirt and stroke over his abs, up to his ribs. Keith can feel his shirt riding up but couldn’t care less because the cool air of the hallway hitting his heated skin is like a blessing, a breath of spring against the glaring heat of the sun.

He suddenly finds that he wants more. More of the touches, more of the heat and more of Lance, only now realizing how utterly addicting all of this is to him, easily ruining him for the rest of his life because he’s pretty sure he’ll never be able to look at Lance again and _not_ think of this.

“My room,” he gasps out, breaking the kiss and letting his head fall back against the wall, Lance immediately latching onto his neck to suck an almost vicious bruise into his skin. It’s equally painful and arousing and Keith tightens the hold of his legs around Lance’s waist helplessly, shivering from head to toe because their crotches touch and quiznak, _Lance is just as hard as Keith feels_.

“Mine’s closer,” Lance huffs back. “’n I’ve got stuff there.” Keith doesn’t ask what that means and he actually doesn’t really care, as long as he gets Lance out of those clothes and on a horizontal surface. Though, judging from how hot this whole wall hoisting situation is, Keith probably would also be happy with recreating it somewhere the others can’t necessarily walk into them. He wants to tell as much to Lance but he’s already one step ahead of Keith, it seems, slowly letting him down to the floor again and running his hands over the sides of Keith’s ribs almost casually. Then he plants a kiss on Keith’s nose again, the contrast of its sweetness so intense against the heated fumbling they did just a moment ago that it steals his breath away. He almost throws himself at Lance, wrapping both arms around him and kissing him because he has no idea how to formulate any of the intense things he’s feeling and just hopes that his actions translate it into something Lance understands and from the way Lance smiles into it, he thinks his point comes across.

There’s breathy laughter mixing with their soft moans and then Lance is pulling Keith along again, down the hallway, fingers tangled and practically tripping over their own feet on their way but as messy as it is, Keith loves every second of it. He loves that Lance is as excited and happy as he is, feels intoxicated by it all, his heart soaring and his mind just full of Lance, Lance, Lance.

When they finally reach Lance’s room, they practically fall inside, already wrapped around each other again, mouths slotting together and hands wandering, soft noises escaping both of them. As soon as the door slides shut behind them, Keith presses Lance against it, eager to explore himself, pushing up Lance’s shirt and huffing out a quiet laugh when Lance eagerly pulls the entire shirt off, presenting his upper body absolutely shameless in this easy way of his. Keith only barely manages to keep in something like a whimper when he finally is allowed to lay eyes on all that gorgeous skin, muscles beautifully crafted into the picture of sleek strength, v-lines leading down to his crotch, a thin happy trail tantalizingly delicious. His hands are on Lance before he can even form a conscious thought, running over Lance’s barely there abs and appreciating every inch of it and the way he can feel Lance tremble under his finger tips, breathy moans leaving his mouth and eyes closing in something like ecstasy. He’s just letting Keith have this, probably remembering the way Keith rambled to him back on that ice moon.

When he opens his eyes again, catches Keith’s hands in his and presses a soft kiss to each of his knuckles, Keith loses the fight against the whimper that’s clawing its way out of his throat and Lance smiles, pulls him closer to kiss him again while gently pushing Keith back towards the bed and down onto it once they finally reach it. Keith lies back on the bed, letting Lance crawl over him and pulls him closer so he can kiss him again and for a while, he just loses himself in it, enjoying the way their bodies fit together like they were made for this, like Keith was one half of something that’s complete now.

Lance’s fingers push Keith’s shirt up again, until his fingers graze Keith’s nipples and oh God, he didn’t even know that being touched there would make him feel so hot all over, lightnings of sharp arousal zipping down straight between his legs. His hips buck up almost involuntarily, not having expected any of it, and Lance groans, the sound of it so incredibly loud in the silence of the room.

“Fuck, Keith,” he breathes against Keith’s neck where his head has dropped and somehow those two words encompass the entire situation so well that it makes Keith laugh, touching Lance’s cheek to make him lift his head and kiss him, leaning up slightly so they’re pressed together from chest to thigh, delicious friction where their crotches meet.

And then Lance is impatiently tugging at the hem of Keith’s shirt so he lifts his upper body off the body, making Lance grumble something about showing off his stupid core strength but Keith isn’t paying attention to it because the second his shirt lands on the floor next to the bed, Lance just – stops. His blue eyes are wide and Keith squirms, suddenly uncomfortable with the intense inspection and feeling himself blush almost down to his chest.

Is he too thin? Too pale? Too… wrong? For the first time since Lance kissed him back on the training deck, Keith has doubts about all of this. Is he doing the right thing? Is Lance having second thoughts? Isn’t this where they were headed, after all, did he get it all wrong…?

Except then Lance seems to shake himself out of his stupor, blinking furiously and then huffing,

“Man, you weren’t kidding about distracting waists.”

Wait. What?

Keith stares up at him, completely confused. And then it dawns on him and he asks, incredulously,

“Did you… just get distracted by my waist?” He cannot stop the amusement from bleeding into the question and Lance flushes bright red.

“Hey, at least you’re not getting shot because of it!” he returns, sounding petulant. Keith, very maturely, sticks out his tongue at him. Lance’s answer to that is to mercilessly start tickling him until Keith is breathless with laughter and Lance, the sneaky bastard, uses that to start leaving kisses all over Keith’s neck and chest until he’s writhing with desire and biting his lower lip, small gasps almost drowning out by the pleased hums Lance is making.

“’m happy you got distracted,” Lance whispers against Keith’s solarplexus. “Could have lived without being shot, though.”

Their shoes drop to the floor, quickly followed by socks and pants and before Keith knows what exactly happened, they’re both naked, sheets rumpled all around them, faces flushed and hearts beating wildly. Thankfully, Keith has no time to be embarrassed about being naked because Lance has taken to kissing the living daylights out of him and pretty much everything Keith can do is hold on for dear life, arms wrapped around Lance’s shoulders and one leg around Lance’s hip. They’re rutting against each other, dicks sliding together and soft groans floating between their bodies until Keith gasps out,

“Please…”

He wants more, so much more and it should scare him how much he wants it. Except it doesn’t because he’s with Lance and he trusts him and if he falls, goddamn, then so be it. They’ve come this far and it’s working out and he just wants to let himself go, just this once, because it feels like this is worth it. It’s worth the effort and being scared and opening up himself to another person and when Lance pauses to look at him and asks him if he’s really sure, Keith nods his consent, pulling him into another kiss and breathing “yes, yes, yes” against his lips. Lance laughs, open and happy, and leans off the bed for a moment, fumbling with his pants and then producing a small round metal container.

“Vaseline,” Lance explains with a grin to Keith’s questioning look. “Does wonders for the lips. And… other stuff too.”

Keith chokes on an inhale as Lance’s fingers wrap around his dick, sending shivers down his entire body. Lance scoots down the bed until he’s kneeling between Keith’s spread thighs but frankly, Keith is too far gone to panic over any of this. He’s so hot and incredibly aroused that he simply covers Lance’s hand on his dick with his own, showing him just how he like to jerk himself off and Lance shoots him a heated glance, lids hooded and pure desire written on his face. A scoop of Vaseline adds just the right amount of lubrication and Keith arches his back, exposing his entire neck as he moans low in his throat, hearing Lance let out a muffled curse in Spanish. Then, there’s the cool feeling of a lubed up finger at his entrance and Keith starts trembling all over, shaking like a leaf in the wind. He doesn’t even know why but it concerns Lance enough to lean forward and kiss him again, never letting go of Keith’s dick and whispering to him. Keith doesn’t understand a word because it’s all in Spanish but just from the sound of it, he knows that it’s full of adoration and meant to calm him down, to let him know that Lance is there all the way with him.

“C’mon,” he urges Lance on, lifting his own hand off his dick and wrapping his fingers around Lance’s instead. “Unless you want me to fuck you?” He has no idea where this sudden confidence comes from but it sounds like a challenge and Lance laughs, surprised.

“Next time, babe,” he replies, kissing Keith and leaning back again to get better access to Keith’s hole. Sadly, this dislodges Keith’s hand on Lance’s dick but he immediately gets distracted from that by a new touch against his entrance. This time, however, he swallows against the rising anxiety in his chest and tries to relax while Lance circles one finger against his hole until Keith is squirming impatiently. Only then does he push his finger inside and Keith makes a small noise, half discomfort and half encouragement to continue, wiggling his hips a little. Lance lets go of Keith’s cock to press his hand across Keith’s bellybutton, gently pressing his hips down to stop him from moving too much. Once again, he starts mumbling low in Spanish which somehow manages to make this entire thing even hotter.

After Keith gets used to that first finger, the feeling of uncomfortable tightness slowly turning into pleasure, a second and a third finger follow. It’s a stretch because he’s never done this before and Lance’s dick is much longer than his three fingers though the girth of it isn’t quite as wide. Lance keeps adding Vaseline to make the glide smoother and finally looks up back to Keith.

“You sure about this? We can stop. I mean, we don’t have to…”

“I want this,” Keith interrupts him. “Just – do something?” Lance looks slightly conflicted for a moment but then nods, deciding to trust Keith on this.

“Then you’d better turn around,” he advises. “It’s… supposed to be easier from the back, for the first time.”

“Have you ever…?”

“No,” Lance admits, flushing a little again. “Just once, with a girl. But, uh. Y’know. Healthy teenage boy with an access to the internet.”

“I can’t believe you’re taking inspiration from porn,” Keith grouches and winces a bit when Lance pulls his fingers out. He feels weird and empty without them but obediently shuffles around until he’s on his hands and knees, facing the wall and presenting Lance with a full view of his ass. At least like this, Lance can’t see how red Keith’s face is.

“You’ll thank me later for the amount of porn I’ve watched,” Lance promises him and Keith doesn’t even need to look back at him to know that he’s grinning. He does glance over his shoulder anyway, just in time to see Lance fish for his pants again and pull out an honest to God condom out of his jeans pocket.

“I can’t believe you,” Keith repeats, earning himself a laugh. “Did you seriously carry that around all the time?”

“Oh shut up!”

Truth be told, whenever Keith has thought about sex before (in a mostly abstract way because while he’s found people attractive before, none of them have ever made him want to kiss them all over, not like Lance does now) he’s thought that it was all seriousness and desire, burning bright and not at all like the laughter between them, the bit of mocking, mixed with the heated touches they’ve shared and the overall easiness. He can’t imagine sharing it with another person, can’t imagine walking up to a stranger and just falling into bed with them. But Lance, he knows him, they’ve proven time and time again that they’re an awesome team.

And now, they work just as well inside the bedroom as they do outside of it.

When he first feels Lance pushing inside, Keith screws his eyes shut. Sharp spikes of pain shoot through his lower body and he winces but Lance must have either heard it or just instinctively known what to do because he puts a hand on the back of Keith’s neck, lightly scratching over the skin there, causing pleasant shivers to run down Keith’s back, almost completely distracting him from the discomfort in his ass. Lance continues to push inside until he’s bottomed out and Keith breathes against the tight sensation, against the weirdness of it until he feels like he can handle it. Throughout it all, Lance doesn’t stop stroking Keith’s back gently, mumbling in soft Spanish and Keith resolves to one day learn this language, just to understand what exactly Lance is telling him, resorting back to his mother tongue in this moment of intimacy.

But not now.

Now, Keith takes a deep breath and experimentally moves back against Lance, pleased at the surprised gasp coming from behind him. There are no more words, both of them too worked up by now to think of anything to say as Lance begins moving slowly, hands sliding to Keith’s hips, fingers spreading out over his hipbones as he thrusts into him. Keith still isn’t sure if he likes all this but he decides to try this out, to try and enjoy it. With every thrust, he tries to move his hips back to meet Lance’s hips, tries to not concentrate too much on the way he can feel every slide of Lance’s cock inside him because frankly, it’s weird knowing that he’s literally joined to another person like this.

And that’s when Lance decides to drape himself over Keith’s back, one hand wrapped around Keith’s dick again and the other reaching to tangle with Keith’s fingers, gripping the sheets with him. The touch around his cock is both surprising and exciting and he can feel himself getting hard again where he’s gone half-hard from the lack of stimulation. The movement of the hand around his dick is synched with Lance’s thrusts, speeding up slightly and then slowing down again so Keith actually moans out loud again because the low burn of arousal keeps bringing him closer to the edge.

It’s better, so much better, more like he can enjoy this, making him wish to try this again until they’re both unraveling at the seams from pleasure, more like he’s imagined sex to be. But this is their first time and of course it’s not going to be perfect and, well – Keith doesn’t mind that. Actually, he loves that it’s not, that both of them can share this first time with each other, that they both have room to grow and get more comfortable with each other and find out more about how to make the other go crazy.

Lance comes first, shuddering with his entire body and stilling his thrusts and Keith is fiercely glad for the condom because he’s not sure how he feels about come dripping out of his ass. Maybe at some point – but definitely not yet. Lance mumbles nonsense into Keith’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses on the little nubs of Keith’s spine and then slowly pulls out, arms shaky and looking like the proverbial cat that got the cream. There’s a moment of silence between them while Lance carefully pulls off the condom, ties it off and drops it into a bucket full of tissues next to the end of the bed that Keith only sees now that he looks over his shoulder.

“Turn around,” Lance says then, voice hoarse from moaning. Keith swallows and does as he’s told, dropping back down on his back and looking up at Lance who’s looking at him like he’s never seen anything as beautiful before. It’s both scary and empowering and then Lance is reaching for Keith’s dick again, leaning forward to slot their lips together into a kiss.

He’s jerking Keith off almost lazily until Keith is a sheer and utter mess, putty under Lance’s hands. There’s a hand teasing that sensitive spot right under Keith’s left nipple and his other hand is alternating between slow strokes and a completely maddening flick of his wrist until Keith’s hips are bucking off the bed again and he’s coming, breathing out Lance’s name while his back arches and the energy tingles all the way down his spine until he slumps back on the mattress, breathing hard and eyes screwed shut even as his mouth splits into a wide, happy smile.

When he opens his eyes again, Lance is smiling at him, idly wiping off his hands with Keith’s shirt because of course that would be the first thing he grabs, and then cleaning the mess Keith made all over his own belly. Keith watches him do it, feeling boneless and sated and happy, and then snatches his messed up shirt out of Lance’s hands to drop it back on the floor and grab for Lance’s wrist instead, pulling him closer and maneuvering him around until they’re holding each other, legs tangled with Keith snuggly fitted along the long lines of Lance’s naked body, cheek resting on his shoulder.

“Who would’ve thought you’re a cuddler,” Lance teases and squeals a little in the next moment because Keith jabs a finger straight into his ribs.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone,” he grumbles and Lance laughs.

“Don’t worry, mulletface,” he replies, making the insult somehow sound fond and adoring while he pulls up the covers around them until they’re safely inside a warm and beautiful cocoon. “It’s gonna be our secret.”

“Good.” Keith stretches his neck a little, dropping a kiss against Lance’s collarbone. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

Lance laughs, the sound of it vibrating through his chest where Keith’s ear is pressed against it. It makes him fall in love just a little bit harder, just a little deeper with this beautiful boy who manages to combine the light of the sun and the blue of the ocean, so much like that beach Lance has mentioned back on planet Arus as if he’s born of the ocean and the beach, a child of the sea and the breeze, free spirited and Keith cannot believe that this glorious person has chosen _him_ of all people to pour his affection into, as if Keith is not broken and lost and always, always reaching for the brightest stars that are way out of his reach.

But just this once, one of those stars has reached back, has taken his hand and here they are now, safe in each other’s embrace and Keith loves him, loves every part of him, every smirk and joke and horrendously bad pickup line. And maybe this bright, bright star _will_ one day turn into a black hole and swallow Keith whole but…

He’s willing to risk it.

Because stars, they live for so long, lighting up the sky at both day and night, fierce and strong and while not everlasting, coming damn close to it. So even if this star fizzles out one day and burns away in a supernova so grand that it darkens the sky forever, Keith will enjoy every single moment until then.

So he kisses Lance’s collarbone again and snuggles closer, closing his eyes and letting out a satisfied, happy sigh. There’s a kiss pressed into his messy black hair, an arm lovingly wrapped around him, drawing idle shapes into his skin with one fingertip. He drifts off to sleeps like that, breath evening out and feeling more comfortable than he has ever felt in his life.

And when he dreams, he dreams of stars – bold and bright and blue.

**Author's Note:**

> You may come yell at me here or on my tumblr, joyfullychaotic.tumblr.com!


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